A Proper Romance
by Keryl Raist
Summary: My version of WIKTT's Marriage Law. Snape's nicer, but still in character. Yes, it can be done! Hermione's an adult, trying to move on from her grief. Comfort, healing, and romance await. Come, read, and see if you agree with over 1000 positive reviews!
1. In Which We Are Brought Up To Date

Chapter 1: In Which We Are Brought Up to Date

Headlines from the Daily Prophet:

**He's Dead! **June 6, 1997

Early today, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, George Weasley, and Ginerva Weasley returned from Hogwarts bearing the head of Lord Voldemort. George Weasley is quoted as saying, "We broke his wand, dismembered him, set him and it on fire, and brought his head back in case someone in the Department of Mysteries can think of anything we didn't to make sure he's not coming back…"

**Horror in Hogsmeade!** June 8, 1997

Last night, during the street celebration in Hogsmeade, over one thousand witches and wizards were killed or wounded when Death Eaters called down white-hot fire from the sky. The entire town is in ashes, and no one has been able to remove the Dark Mark floating where the town used to be…

**St. Mungo's Massacre** June 8, 1997

Within hours of the destruction of Hogsmeade, St. Mungo's, filled to the brim with the wounded and dying, was blown up. It is reported that no one survived. The Dark Mark hangs over the hospital…

**We Will Not Go Quietly** June 11, 1997

Early this morning, an anonymous letter was delivered to the Ministry of Magic. Titled the _Dark Mark Manifesto_, it states that as long as there are any Death Eaters left, nowhere in the Wizarding World will be safe. The terror attacks will continue. The letter says that the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts, and Diagon Alley will all be destroyed before the week is out.

The Ministry very strongly recommends that everyone stay home. Do not go out. If you live in or near one of the potential targets, flee. We have no reason to doubt the sincerity of this letter…

**Double Strike** June 14, 1997

Death Eaters, insane with desire for revenge, simultaneously targeted Hogwarts and Diagon Alley.

In the first good news since the death of You-Know-Who, Hogwarts is still standing. Headmistress Minerva McGonagall tells us that Hogwarts is protected by very old and complex magic, and that nothing short of Armageddon will cause it to fall.

Unfortunately Diagon Alley was not so lucky. It, like Hogsmeade, is now a smouldering pile of ash. It is believed that two thirds of the population of Diagon Alley was unable to leave quickly enough to avoid the strike.

Refugees from Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade are encouraged to go to Hogwarts. "We've got the room," said Headmistress MacGonagall.

**We Got One!** June 16, 1997

Bellatrix Lestrange was captured last night while attempting to enter the Ministry of Magic.

"We are using every tool at our disposal to get information as to who else is alive and what they are planning," a highly placed ministry official who wishes to remain nameless tells us.

**Azkaban in Ashes** June 17, 1997

The Wizarding Prison, Azkaban, was destroyed last night. More a symbolic gesture than a useful one, the Dark Mark hangs over what is now an empty island. The buildings were razed, and the few guards left were killed.

**Snape Is Alive**! June 21, 1997

Severus Snape, reported to have been killed during the battle of Hogwarts, has shocked the Wizarding World by not only surviving, but also turning himself in to the Ministry of Magic. We are told he has been incredibly useful in helping track down the remaining Death Eaters.

"We've caught three in the last two hours," said Roland Sittleworth, Auror. "His information is extremely good."

**Ministry Destroyed!** June, 23 1997

Riding the tide of good feelings caused by the capture of fifteen Death Eaters in the last two days, no one expected another bombing. However, in what looked like an attempt to turn herself in, Narcissa Malfoy walked into the Ministry and detonated herself, destroying the building and everyone inside it. We are told they won't know exactly how many were killed for quite a while, but because only a skeleton crew was actually still located in the Ministry, it's not as bad as it could be.

"I stayed home yesterday, just wanted to spend some more time with my kids," Arthur Weasley, Head of the Department of Muggle Relations, told us. "Luckiest thing I've done in years."

The surviving members of the Ministry are being relocated to an undisclosed location.

**19 Down 2 to Go** June 25, 1997

Early today, Lucius Malfoy was captured. His capture marks 19 of 21 surviving Death Eaters off the streets. Fenrir Greyback and Gregory Goyle are the only two outstanding members of You-Know-Who's followers still free.

**Got 'Em!** June 27, 1997

In what is being hailed as one of the greatest strokes of luck in a very long time, both Greyback and Goyle were captured within hours of each other. As of this point, every known Death Eater is dead or behind bars.

"We're still interrogating them for information about anyone else who may be of interest. But I think, for the time being, we may be safe," said an Auror who preferred to remain anonymous.

**Snape: Not Guilty!** April 4, 1999

London: The most interesting trial this century is likely to see ended today with a verdict of Not Guilty for Severus Snape. Since the fall of the Death Eaters the trial of Snape has been the most complex, causing many to spend hours debating whether he was or was not really a Death Eater. (See our award-winning series: _Divided Loyalties_ for more background on Severus Snape.)

Reuben Vitellus of the Wizgamot said, "Really, it was the Pensieve memories that made me decide to acquit. You can't convict someone of murder when you can see the victim ordering the person to do it."

"For me, it was the information leading to the capture of the other Death Eaters. The Aurors told us that only Lestrange and Malfoy could have been captured without Snape's information. And, well, they both walked into the Ministry under their own power. We're not talking about expert deductive powers here," said a member of the Wizgamot who preferred to remain nameless.

"I still think he's guilty as sin. The only reason he helped turn the other Death Eaters in was to save his own skin," Dolores Umbridge told us.

**Long Term Effects of War and Black June Just Being Realized** June 19, 2000

London: On the third anniversary of the capture of the last Death Eater, we are just beginning to realize the long-term effects of the War and Black June. Our most recent census data shows that more than 70 percent of the British Wizarding population was killed or wounded between the start of Vold War II and June 30th, 1997. Witches now outnumber wizards by three to one.

In what is probably the biggest threat to our continued survival, the number of magical people in Britain has dropped below the level needed to keep Muggles producing wizard children.

"We think about 5000 wizards are needed on an island this size before the magic quotient is high enough for the spontaneous birth of Wizards. The most recent census showed us at 2986," said Percy Weasley, Secretary to the Head of the Department of Repair.

"It's not like most Wizards have a terribly high birth rate anyway, but if we are to survive we need to change that.

"We need to figure out a way to get across the message that one or two kids just won't do it anymore. In my own family, I was one of seven. I currently have five nieces and nephews. Since only two of us are married, it's a very good start. But the Wizarding World needs to do more. We need babies. And we need to make sure that they are not inbred. Three ladies survived Black June for every man that did. Even if all of those men marry one woman, we'll be extinct in three generations."

**Polygamy Legalized!** October 24, 2001

In a move that shocked the Wizarding World, Britain is the first country to re-legalize polygamy since the Dark Ages.

"We spent the last year encouraging people to have babies, and it just didn't do all that much. There have been only nineteen new babies since last year, one of which I'm proud to say is mine, but that just isn't enough. Especially since many of them are full siblings to babies already here," Percy Weasley, Head of the Department for Rebirth, tells us.

"What we've found is that our gene pool is getting too small. Any child who is a full sibling of another one makes that pool even shallower. We hope to encourage a more diverse gene pool by this measure. We've also added incentives for anyone travelling abroad to bring back a spouse. Any family with more than three children per woman will be paid an annual stipend of 250 galleons, and 500 galleons if those children are not full siblings of each other."

**First Muggle-Born Wizard since Black June!** January 28, 2002

For the first time in over four years, a new Muggle-born wizard has been added to the British Wizarding Population. Although Sean Sharpe does not yet know it, he has a fate different than the other Muggles lying in their cots next to him.

"This is extremely good news," said Percy Weasley, Head of the Department for Rebirth. "The more Muggle-borns we can add to our population, the better. This may also allow us to scale down our estimates of how many Wizards are needed in a given area to allow for the production of spontaneous Wizards. In fact, this may allow us to forgo even more radical plans to encourage the increase of our population!"

**Sean Sharpe Conceived in France** March 2, 2002

Looks like we were a bit hasty on the good news front. Further research showed the Sharpes lived in France for three years previous to moving back to Britain for the birth of their first child. As of this point, the level of magic in Britain is still too low to sustain spontaneous Wizard Births.

**Marriage Law Passes** April 2, 2003

In a continuing effort to curb the falling population of the British Wizarding World, the Marriage Act of 2003 has been passed. The extremely contentious legislation caused different groups in the Ministry to break down into screaming matches. But finally, on the 157th vote, it was passed last night.

In effect it states: All fertile, unmarried male and female wizards must find a spouse within the next six months, and begin to produce offspring in the year after that. The bill will expire in thirty years, when the Ministry hopes that the population will have stopped dropping, and gotten to the point of growth again.

Hermione Granger put down her copy of the Daily Prophet, looked out her window for a moment, and said, "Fuck!"


	2. In Which the Real Story Begins

Chapter 2: In Which the Real Story Begins

"It's not that I don't understand why we need the bill, I do, but I like my life the way it is. I don't want to get married, let alone start popping out babies."

Harry and Ginny Potter sat listening to their dear friend complain about the Marriage Act of 2003. Their children, Ron, JS, and Molly had been put down for the night, although Molly's next feeding was due in an hour.

"It's just that… it's only been two years or so since I've even been interested in dating again, and it's not like anyone I've been out with has set my heart aflutter," Hermione said.

"What about that American you took up with when you were teaching magic at the Watcher's Council?" Ginny asked.

"Xander, oh, he was sweet, but the more I thought about it, the more I was just trying to replace Ron. Plus, he had no magical talent. I haven't checked the law word for word, but I bet we're not supposed to go reducing our chances of producing Wizard children by marrying Muggles," Hermione answered.

"Well," Harry began to turn a delicate shade of pink, so Ginny jumped in to rescue him.

"How about us? We could marry you."

Hermione smiled at her friends, her look suffused with love and regret. "That's very kind, but I know you want to be with each other. I'd just be a third wheel. I want a husband of my own. I am curious about something, since being an Order of Merlin First Class Hero of Vold War II hasn't saved me from needing to reproduce. In fact, I've been getting owls from Percy for years about how we need all the strong Wizarding blood we can get in the gene pool. How have you two managed to stay married just to each other? I'm surprised not to see Percy and his harem here every night dangling potential extra spouses while extolling the virtues of many wives. What's he up to now, three?"

"Will you keep a secret? In fact, this may be useful for you to know, maybe you can swing something with Percy the same way," Ginny said.

"Only Ron is both of ours," Harry added. "JS and Molly are both Ginny's but by different fathers. And, if you stay at Hogwarts for another decade, you'll see a few more kiddies with black hair and green eyes wandering the halls."

Hermione looked shocked for a moment, but Ginny continued on, "We don't want our kids to know that they aren't full brothers and sisters. Percy can be pretty persuasive about the whole need-for-as-much-genetic-dilution-as-possible. He tells us that the 'Marriage' part of the new marriage act is to help counteract the fact that so many of the children being brought up today are orphans or have only one parent. They're trying to set up families so that we don't end up with a whole generation that doesn't know how to be married."

"Anyway, perhaps he'd let you use the same dodge. Donate a bunch of eggs, let them do their spell work on it, and voilá, no need for Hermione to get married," Harry said.

Hermione grimaced. "Ick. That's even less appealing. If there are people out there who are half me, I'd like a chance to know them. No offence, Harry."

"None taken. Besides, I'll be teaching all of them Defense Against the Dark Arts. And, I know their families. We won't be close, but we won't be strangers either."

* * *

Two days later, an Owl from the ministry showed up at Hermione's window. It had a small packet of official looking papers covering all the ins and outs of the new law. She could marry or move. She could find her own husband or fill out a questionnaire and the Ministry would send her a list of everyone who matched her criteria.

She fiddled with the paper while thinking about her options. She had lived in America for a year, and she knew The Watcher's Council would welcome her back. She had moved her parents to Australia when she was on the trail of Voldemort, and they had liked it enough that they had stayed. Either way, she could find a place with a view of the beach.

But she liked Scotland. She liked the weather. She liked the people. She liked her job at Hogwarts. She especially liked her job at Hogwarts. She taught Arithmancy, so she only had to deal with the best and the brightest students. And for those seventh years that really excelled, she had begun classes on wandless magic. She sighed, thought more about her job, and began to fill out the questionnaire.

* * *

A month later, when she was expecting to receive her results, she received a personal invitation from Percy to discuss said results.

He sat at his astoundingly tidy desk. Yes, it was piled with papers and reports, but each and every one of them was precisely placed and orderly. "I wanted to give you these in person, and add a bit of explanation as to how you got this result." He handed her the paper, and allowed her to read.

She almost shot out of her chair and ran away when she read the result. Instead she calmed herself down, and said, "Percy, you have got to be kidding! This is my best match? It can't be right. You've rigged this to get me to marry one of one of your brothers."

He smiled gently at her. "Hermione, as much as I would love you to marry one of my brothers, or if you feel like sharing, I've got extra room at home…" He noticed her glaring daggers at him and gestured elegantly at the paper in her hands. "But I digress. He really is your best match, and by quite a bit, and although I shouldn't tell you this, you are his. You are 70.42 percent compatible, and his next highest person is 32.8 percent."

Hermione looked down at her paper and sighed from the depths of her soul. "Yes, and my next highest, at slightly over 40 percent, isn't all that much better." She sat and thought for a moment. Australia, warm, bright sunshine, beaches, no Marriage Act. On the downside her parents would live within easy visiting distance.

Thinking of her parents spawned an idea. "But… he's old enough to be my father."

Percy shook his head with a tight, precise motion. "Barely. I know it's hard to realize, but he is only forty-four. There are less than 200 single wizards left in Britain over the age of thirty and under fifty. Add to that your specification of never married, and the number drops to seventy-three. I took the liberty of weeding out the gay men, thinking you might like an actual marriage as opposed to a baby breeding arrangement, and the number fell further to twenty-six. Of that twenty-six, he's the one that matches up best with you. Use the information however you like: marry him, marry someone who already has a wife, or move abroad and avoid the law. No one will force you to stay, but if you want to be part of this society, you have to contribute to it. Just like taxes, only a bit more personal."

Hermione continued to stare at her paper. She sighed heavily and left his office without a word of farewell. Percy went back to his mounds of paperwork. He didn't know how long had passed before he felt the familiar raising of the hair on the back of his neck that told him a ghost was near. He did look up when he heard the voice come from behind him.

"It's done, then?"

"Yes, it's done, but why you wanted me to do it, I'll never understand." Percy turned and stared at the ghost, still uncertain what he had done was for the best.

"Simple, I am rectifying my last mistake. I did not expect either of them to survive, so I did not plan any sort of…" he paused, "happy ending, if you will, for them. I think though, if they are willing to go through with it, this will work nicely."

Percy raised his eyebrows at the translucent shade of Dumbledore. "You think this will provide a 'happy ending.'"

"As close as anyone gets to one. They matched up of their own accord. All you had to do was take out the few closest runners up."


	3. In Which We Meet the Groom

Chapter 3: In Which We Meet the Groom

Since his acquittal, Severus Snape had been bored. His book, _Life Among the Death Eaters_, had sold well. George Weasley had asked him to formulate a few potions for the store. The royalties on them had and still were paying handsomely. In 2002, he had sold Spinner's End for a small fortune when the neighborhood gentrified. So he was well off: he had a nice place in the country, a small flat in a modestly fashionable London neighborhood for when he felt like company, and enough gold in Gringotts to do whatever he wanted.

The problem was, these days, there was nothing much he wanted to do. He had read enough Muggle history to know that many times, after the excitement and terror of a war, men have had a hard time finding what to do with themselves. He did not for one moment want to go back to the fear, sorrow, stress, hatred, and pain of the war years, but during the war he had had a purpose. And the war had been exciting. He had gone from the most difficult job in the Wizarding World into a very early retirement, and now he was bored. He needed a new challenge, something more exciting than potions. Something that would use skills and facets of his personality that had grown rusty over the years. So which challenge would he take: move to a new land, settle in, and avoid the Marriage Act, or try to woo some young thing?

He sat in his garden, sipping tea, fiddled with the questionnaire the Ministry had sent him, and debated moving to France. The weather was nice, the food was good, and he wouldn't have to get married. But he would have to move; he'd have to say goodbye to his cottage and lab, both of which he was very fond. And his flat, of which he wasn't as fond, but was great for getting the occasional Muggle woman to spend a night with him. Plus he'd have to learn French, which sounded like a challenge, but not of the sort he was craving. And he'd have to start dealing with new laws, and bugger, the French Tax system was nothing he wanted to deal with.

America? God forbid! It would be moving to the land of the Gryffindors. He had read Granger's book on life among the Americans from her year teaching there. No rules, no laws, do whatever you want, whenever you want to. He shuddered. He'd dealt enough with that as a teacher.

Australia? That was a possibility. No language problems, nice sunny beaches, somewhat English people. Other side of the globe. _No one knows what I spent the last twenty years up to. Maybe, I'll take up surfing and work on anti-venom spells. _Yes, Australia could be a possibility.

He continued to fiddle with a fantasy home in Australia, but the reality of the questionnaire kept intruding on him.

He stared at it, and a thought flitted through his mind: every currently single, fertile witch either went to school with him, had been his student, or was too young to marry. Several years' worth of nubile, pretty girls that he had spent many an hour scowling at as they turned valuable potion ingredients into mud danced through his mind. God, he wanted to see their reactions when they saw his name show up on their match list. The shock value alone would be worth it. Trying to get one of them to see him as an acceptable mate would certainly be a challenge. It would involve skills that had been rusting since…_They were never sharp in the first place_. He began to fill out the questionnaire.

Besides, if none of them worked out, there was always Australia.

* * *

Four weeks later, an owl arrived at his home. He was sitting in his back garden, looking over notes to a very complex potion, lost in thought, when she nipped at his hand. He untied the scroll, and she flew off.

It was lighter, smaller than he had imagined. Apparently he wasn't about to set the hearts of too many witches aflutter. He cracked the seal neatly with his thumb and glanced down:

_The Ministry of Magic thanks you for your co-operation in regards to our new policy. We hope this list makes it easier for you to find a suitable mate. We have included in this package your matches with a greater than thirty percent similarity, a guide to courtship, and the necessary paperwork to register a marriage._

_Thank you,_

_Percy Weasley_

_Head of the Department of Rebirth_

Matches with Greater Than 30 Percent Similarity

Granger, Hermione: 70 percent

Brown, Amanda: 32 percent

That was it! Two women! One was totally unsuitable: Amanda Brown couldn't be more than ten minutes past seventeen, and she had been a bleeding nitwit in school. The other was Hermione?

His mind filled with the image of a frizzy-haired girl. He saw a buck-toothed, frizzy-haired, know-it-all who had spent all her time trying to prove how smart she was.

She was smart, though. Her book had been surprisingly readable, with some very pertinent insights into the problems with American magical education. He went to his study, grabbed the book, and looked at her picture on the dust jacket. Yes, Miss Frizz was gone now. She had to be... twenty-three, twenty-four years old? Still, too young for him, really, but not embarrassingly so.

Hadn't he heard that she had married one of the Weasleys? Or Potter? He knew that Ron Weasley had not made it home from the hunt for Voldemort, but he had a hard time believing that she was still single. Between Potter and the surviving Weasley boys, that was… five possible matches. How could she still be single?

He looked at her picture again. She had aged well. He could still see signs of the child who hopped up and down trying to win fame and glory for Gryffindor with her vast inventory of facts, but the woman smiling lightly on the dust jacket looked more confident. She had all the glory she needed. He read the brief biography, most of which he was familiar with: Order of Merlin, First Class, Hero of Vold War II, beginning a post at Hogwarts next year…

He checked the copyright. She'd been teaching at Hogwarts for three years. What did she teach? He had kept up with the school long enough to know who his replacement had been. After deciding that McGonagall could keep the job, he hadn't paid much attention to Hogwarts.

He looked at her picture a moment longer and decided to pen a letter. As he sat at his desk, the words began to flow.

_Dear Ms Granger,_

_I have received my letter from the Ministry and believe we may have topics of mutual interest to discuss. Would you be willing to meet me for drinks at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow evening?_

_Severus Snape_

That looked good. Cool, yet appealing. _Let the game begin!_ And, if she still was the know-it-all Gryffindor, there was always Australia.


	4. In Which a Letter Arrives

Chapter 4: In Which a Letter Arrives

The first thing Hermione had done upon leaving Percy's office was to go to the library and pick up Snape's book. _Life Among the Death Eaters_ was not nearly the trashy-tell-all the title insinuated. That might explain why so few people of her acquaintance had actually finished it. If anything, it was more of a psychological profile of how the organization worked, what it offered those who joined, and what drove Tom Riddle to become Lord Voldemort. The chapters on the fall of Lord Voldemort had been especially interesting because she had been directly involved but from the other side. There were a few areas where Snape hadn't quite gotten the story right, but as she remembered, he wasn't at those battles, and must have learned about them secondhand. His prose was clean, and insightful. On that alone, she was willing to risk meeting him.

Besides, if he was still the Greasy Git of the Dungeons, she could always join her parents in Australia.

When she told Harry and Ginny about her best match, Harry spit the coffee he was drinking across the room. The conversation had continued until late into the night and was still going on the next day during their lunch.

"How on earth could you have possibly been matched up with Snape?" She began to once more go over Percy's explanation, but he gestured to for her to stop. "Yes, I know how, but _how_?"

"Apparently slightly over seventy percent of our answers matched."

Harry shook his head dismissively. "Really, just marry Ginny and I. Or George. He, Angelina, and Deidre would be thrilled to have you. But Snape? I know you want a husband all to yourself, and I can't imagine you'll be fighting anyone for him, but really, Snape?"

"Harry," she said calmly, taking his hands in hers and making him look her in the eye. "I'm not saying I'll marry him. Hell, I'm not saying I'll even take this any further than drinks, but I don't really want to marry you and Ginny. Not to put it too bluntly, but it would be like shagging my brother. I'm just not into that. And George will always be my favourite Weasley, but it's the same problem, with the side issue of trying to bring back what I had with Ron. I can't ever have Ron back, and I know that I'd be trying to create something that wasn't real if I married George. If Ron, or Remus, or Sirius had lived, or if Neville or Dean hadn't already married…"

"You saw my list. Snape's the only real option on it." And with that, a small tawny owl landed at her elbow. She picked up the scroll, and quickly read it. "Obviously, he's of the same opinion as well." Harry winced. She quickly wrote a response.

_Dear Severus,_

_Drinks would be lovely. Would 7:30 suit?_

_Hermione_

"I can't believe you have a date with Snape tomorrow." Harry looked like he was going to vomit.

"I can't believe I have to be in a situation where dating Snape may be the only way to keep my job. Percy told me that no, I could not stay at Hogwarts to teach and live in Australia for citizenship purposes." Harry continued to look ill and poke at his food.

"Oh, stop looking so grim, it's not like you're going on a date with him." The image of which set her to giggling. Her laughter became infectious, and Harry began to laugh as well.

When he finally answered his voice was lighter, "No, but I'll be the one hearing about it afterward, and I'll be the one stuck with him for a brother-in-law if you two actually do get along. Hell, he'll be Uncle Sn…Sev to my kids. Uncle Sev, uhg." Hermione began to laugh again at the face he made while saying that.

Lunch ended with them still batting the subject around. But the more she thought about it, the more meeting Snape seemed like a sane idea. After all, agreeing to drinks was a far cry from agreeing to marry.


	5. In Which Our Protagonists Prepare

Chapter 5: In Which Our Protagonist Prepare For Their Date

"It should be easier than this," Severus said as he stared at his closet. "I was the spy for the Order of the Phoenix. I kept Voldemort from guessing my true loyalty. I…"

"Need to get some new clothes and a haircut," the redhead finished for him. She hovered behind Snape; who was looking at his array of black clothing.

He turned to look at her. "You again?"

"Of course, I'm always here. I'm what happens when you spend too much time alone talking to yourself. Come to the mirror." Snape walked across his room to his mirror.

"Look at yourself," she said. He did as she asked. The man looking back had long, lank, black hair, which was just starting to go gray at his temples. Most of his face was hidden by a black beard, also starting to show some signs of gray. Well, nothing that a good shampoo and a pair of scissors couldn't fix. He touched his chin. _Still firm, maybe a shave is order as well._

"I like you better clean shaven as well," the redhead said, her hands on his shoulders.

"Hmmm." He continued looking. Nothing short of surgery was going to help his nose. The rest of his body was in decent shape, even if he was the one saying it. He pulled on a black shirt and trousers, and debated about where to go. A place had opened not too far from his London flat. It was in an expensive neighborhood, so that probably spoke well of the skill of the staff. Maybe one of them would even give him a shave as well as a haircut.

"New clothes?" Snape asked. The redhead nodded.

"You look like an overgrown bat in all of her memories of you. The first part of the challenge is getting her to see you as something other than Professor Snape, Greasy Git of the Dungeons. Once you've broken that image you can ease back into black."

_But I look good in black. _

"No, Sev, you really don't. You look dead in black, and will continue to until you get some more color." She smiled at him to soften the words.

"I'm not getting a tan."

"I didn't say you had to."

* * *

Hermione glared at her closet. She was fairly sure she owned numerous outfits, many of which were flattering and acceptable for going out for drinks with a member of the opposite sex. So why had they all vanished?

Ginny sat comfortably on her bed with Molly nursing contentedly. "Go for the green one. It compliments your hair and eyes well."

"I'm not wearing green to meet the former head of Slytherin House."

"The red robes?"

Hermione turned to glare at Ginny, who smiled innocently.

Ginny nodded at the left side of her closet. "You'd look smashing in the amethyst dress, plus it looks almost nothing like anything you would have worn as a student."

Hermione turned to the closet, pulled it out, and held it up to herself. "It looks nothing like anything I would have worn as a student because it shows off a whole lot of cleavage. He doesn't need to see my breasts tonight!"

"Hermione, if things go well tonight, you'll likely marry him. That's the point of this right? I mean, if you two get on, are you going to keep looking for anyone else?" Hermione didn't have an answer for that, so she turned back towards the closet. "Assuming you two get on, I'm fairly sure he'll be seeing your breasts at some point in the not-too-distant future."

It finally hit Hermione. This was for keeps. There was no wiggle room. It was find a husband, marry a friend, or move. And she had six months left to do it. She went to the back of the closet and pulled out something in a soft gray.

"Oh Hermione, no! That's too…" Ginny had been about to say boring until Hermione pulled it on. "Wow! I am borrowing that as soon as my figure is back. Where did you get that?"

At first glance, it was boring: a plain, nicely cut gray dress of a soft material. But once on, it changed. It clung to the skin, melding against curves and giving the illusion of being painted on. Every time Hermione moved, it flowed around her and resettled itself. It was horribly modest, unless you really looked at it. "I got it while I was in the US."

Ginny shook her head. "I love it, and you are getting one for me, but it's probably too much for a first date. This is Severus 'I-notice-everything-that-comes-my-way' Snape, he won't miss what that dress has to offer. Go for the green one; Slytherin be damned. It's not like you've got to wear silver jewellery."


	6. In Which We Go On a Date

Chapter Six: In Which We Go on A Date

Half an hour later, Hermione was sitting in the Three Broomsticks wearing a compromise outfit. Flattering slacks, a moderately daring sweater, and her hair long and loose had finally bridged the gap between putting it all out and hiding it all away.

She had sat where she could watch the door. At the stroke of 7:30 it opened, and she was disappointed to see it wasn't him. Then she was shocked to see it was. He was older now. _Well of course he's older; it's been seven years._ A little gray had begun to show at his temples, and what shocked her more, his hair was stylishly cut and clean. Really clean, squeaky clean. His nose was still large and hooked, but in her mind's eye it was enormous, dominating his whole face. Now it was just a nose. More wrinkles lined his eyes and mouth, but the hard, perpetually angry lines had softened with time. He was wearing blue and khaki, not a trace of black on him. Granted, he wasn't handsome, but he wasn't the horror show she had expected, either.

He smiled (Smiled!) at her. "Hello."

She sat gobsmacked for a second and then composed herself. "Hello, back. Please sit down." They looked at each other for a moment.

Finally he spoke: "Would you be more comfortable if I looked like this?" and the Greasy Git of her memory was back, and then gone.

"How did you do that?" Her eyes widened.

"It's a kind of reverse glamour I always used to use on you Gryffindors. It helped to keep you in check during class. You should have seen what Moody looked like to the Slytherins."

"I'll admit that's how I remember you." Although it wasn't quite, something was missing, but she wasn't sure what exactly, probably the black fluttering robes. "But I like this view better."

He smiled gently. "I happen to like this version of me better as well." Rosmerta came around to take their order and managed to keep from staring too blatantly at them.

"Sooo…" he said.

"Yes."

They sat in an awkward silence. She decided to bite the bullet. "I'm not really looking to get married, but I love my job and don't want to leave."

He looked back at her. "Cards all up front at once, then?" He took a sip of his drink. "I'm also not interested in getting married, but I like my life, I like my comforts, and I don't want to give them up. I'm not interested in learning French, and as much as I keep thinking about Australia…"

He trailed off when he saw her eyes go wide, "What?"

"I'd been thinking about moving to Australia as well. I moved my parents there when we went after Voldemort, and they liked it so much they stayed."

"Well that would have been a laugh. Both of us leave Britain and end up there."

"Why Australia?" she asked, genuinely curious as to what about it would attract Snape.

He smiled at her again, "Sunshine, beaches: I thought I might take up surfing." The image of him on a surfboard was amazing but plausible to her. Then the image of the Greasy Git on a surfboard, robes billowing in the ocean breezes, flitted through her mind. The resultant laugh and swallow caused her to choke on her drink.

When she could breathe again, she said, "You're kidding right?"

He smiled yet again. Who on God's Green Earth knew he could do that? Hell, who knew he had teeth? "It has been known to happen."

"Forgive me for saying this, but not by any of us."

"True." He gave her an explanatory gesture. "It wasn't like being your best professor pal would have been a particularly good idea. Albus wasn't very good at keeping people who would report back to the Dark Lord about me out of Hogwarts. And when you begin teaching at the age of twenty, they make sure you don't fraternize with the students."

"I do know that." She certainly remembered a very stern conversation with McGonagall about how many of the seventh years were not all that much younger than she was, and most of them thought she was a hero, and she was not, under any circumstances, to become too familiar with any of them, especially the boys, but these days the girls could be trouble, too.

"What are you teaching?" he asked as Rosmerta deposited their drinks.

"Arithmancy, and for a few of the very best seventh years, basic wandless magic."

"I had been wondering a bit about that since I read your book…" And from there the conversation wandered into esoteric magical theory.

An hour later Hermione became aware of the time. "I'm sorry, but I have to meet Harry at nine."

"How is the Prat Who Lived?"

Her eyelids lowered slightly, "He's doing lovely. He teaches the position you once wanted oh-so-badly."

"Girls Quiddich?" he asked with an entirely straight face.

Hermione blinked hard, and then began to grin. "Who are you?"

"That, I think, is something you may get to spend the rest of your life figuring out."


	7. In Which We Mull Over the Date

Chapter Seven: In Which We Mull Over The Date

Severus Snape sat in his London flat overlooking the Thames. He had decided to go there instead of the cottage, so he could listen to his Muggle music collection while thinking. Led Zeppelin filled his flat.

It had gone much better than he had dared hope. One way or another, he'd have to get her to start teaching him wandless magic. Her discussion of the topic had raised his interest enough that a trip to the US was certainly going onto his itinerary. Land of the Gryffindors it may be, but apparently it was also land of the wandless witch.

She was not what he had expected._ What did you expect? Her to be seventeen? Yes. Well that was bloody stupid now, wasn't it? She'll be seventeen again as soon as you become thirty-seven. _

The idea of him thirty-seven again set him to thinking of the one thing that had really bothered him about the date. She had been absolutely shocked at the idea of him as a decent bloke. Yes, he had had the whole greasy git thing going, but he hadn't been that bad.

"You were worse." The redhead sat on the arm of his sofa as she spoke.

"How would you know? You weren't there," he responded, looking into her green eyes.

"Of course I was there. I'm the figment of _your_ imagination. I'm the little voice that keeps you honest with yourself. And you were an absolute horror to anyone who got too close to you, especially certain bushy-haired Gryffindors."

"Well, I had good reasons."

"I know that, but I doubt she does. After all, it's not like anyone else knows the full story of why you were such a bastard."

"And it's not like anyone will anytime soon."

"Will you marry her?"

"Hell." He rubbed his temples. "Probably, it seemed like a good meeting, and I very much doubt I'll do better, let alone in the time I have."

"Then you'd better tell her, or she'll never be rid the image of you as the man who used to torment her for fun," and with that Lily faded from the room.

* * *

Harry and Ginny sat next to the Pensieve looking stunned at the memories Hermione had just shown them. Finally Harry said, "Who the fuck was that?"

"My thoughts exactly," Hermione replied.

"Was he flirting?" added Ginny.

"I think he was. Surfing?" Hermione shook her head in amazement.

"Who was that? It's got to be some sort of joke. It was George playing a joke. He must have set it up with Percy. There is no way that could have been Snape. We all thought he died when Nagini got him. He must have died and someone else has been pretending to be him. It's Wormtail!" Harry said desperately trying to make what he had just seen fit with his worldview.

"Harry, we saw him die, too," Ginny said. "It's Snape. You know just as well as I do that Nagini didn't really kill him. We watched the trial. He was certainly Snape then."

Harry looked a little chagrined at his nonsensical outburst. "Well, yeah, he was Snape… This new guy… There is no way that was Snape. Snape does not smile. Snape does not joke. Snape does not wear attractive clothing with a sharp hair cut. Snape does not flirt, and he especially does not flirt with you. Next thing, you'll be telling me he plays seeker for England and likes to prance about meadows with daisies in his hair. It's just not him!"

"It's been seven years. I guess not being a spy anymore has agreed with him." Hermione was also trying to fit the man she had just spent an hour with to her six years of memories.

"Hermione, this isn't stress relief! This is a full frontal lobotomy followed by a personality transplant. I don't know who that was, but that was not Snape. I think you're in some sort of danger. I don't want you seeing him alone."

"Whoa… calm down, you." Ginny put her hand against Harry's chest. "I think that was Snape, happy. Or at least Snape not suicidally depressed. We could bring back some memories of your fifth year, or worse the Horcrux hunt, versus now and see how closely the two Harrys resemble each other."

Harry looked at her, saw she was only partially joking. "Point taken. So what happens now?"

"We've got a date. Dinner at my place day-after-tomorrow."


	8. In Which the School Finds Out

Chapter 8: In Which the School Finds Out

"We've run into an unexpected complication from the new Marriage Law," Headmaster McGonagall stated to the three youngest professors at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Neville Longbottom. "It seems that roughly two thirds of our seventh years are ignoring their studies and planning weddings or how to create the most ostentatious proposals they can." Her cold gaze settled on Neville and Harry. "I have noticed the Gryffindor boys especially are doing all they can to see which one of them can make the biggest spectacle of himself while pursuing his lady love. I have also been told by Poppy that it's a very good thing that it's May and the school year is almost out, because a few of our soon to be newly-weds will also be parents around Christmas. So, we will be adding a new class to the curriculum for Fifth years and up, concerning relationships, contraception, and why it is an extremely good idea not to get in a family way while still here at Hogwarts. Harry and Neville, you will have the boys, and Hermione you have the girls. I am hoping that since you three are so close to them in age, they will actually listen to what you have to say." She looked at them in a manner that brooked no argument. "I've informed the boys, that on Saturday afternoon from 1 to 3, and the girls, that on Sunday 1 to 3, they'll have a special class."

The three former Gryffindors grumbled their way out of her office. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks a few feet from McGonagall's door, whipped around, and headed back into the Headmaster's office.

"What was that for?" Neville asked.

"She has a date Sunday evening. I'm sure she wants to see if she can reschedule her class," Harry answered.

"A date? With who?"

"You will never, ever, ever believe it." Harry shook his head forlornly while he spoke.

"Try me."

"Severus Snape."

Now it was Neville's turn to stop dead in his tracks. Finally he said, "This is either the worst joke in the world, or… no it's the worst joke in the world."

"That's pretty much what I thought when I first heard. I even accused George of setting it up. But it seems real. Snape was the highest match on her list. So they had drinks, she didn't hex him into next Sunday, and then they agreed to have dinner tomorrow. She's cooking."

At which point, Hermione rejoined them. Neville took one look at her, dropped to his knees and said, "Hermione, don't do this to yourself. Marry me. We've got lots in common. I've always respected you for your brains and…"

"I see Harry told you who my dinner companion is tomorrow." She raised an eyebrow at Harry.

Harry shrugged. "I didn't think it was a secret."

She sighed, "Well, it's not. Get up Neville. You're being sweet, really, but I'm interested in having a husband all to myself. If memory serves, you've got two wives at home these days."

Neville stood up and sighed quietly with relief. Hermione was great, but as the sane part of his mind returned, he realised she and Luna wouldn't live together well. "Hermione, how can you even consider him? He's evil."

"He was loyal to the Order."

"Nothing doing, he's evil. Umbridge wasn't a Death Eater either, that didn't make her any less evil. He spent six years torturing us as often as possible. You weren't here when he was Headmaster; he let them crucio us for fun. He…" Neville shuddered.

"He gave Harry the one missing piece of information he needed to defeat Voldemort. He gave us the sword that we used to destroy the Horcruxes. Most importantly he saved all of our lives by making sure the Order got us out of the Ministry our fifth year. We all would have died there if he had just sat on his hands."

Neville glared at Hermione. He hated to be reminded that Snape had saved their lives.

Harry decided it was time for a change of topic. "So, sex education. Any ideas on how to do that?" They continued the discussion while heading towards their next class.

Two hours and a class later, Hermione was heading towards lunch when Hagrid walked up to her.

"Can we talk alone for a mo'?"

"Certainly, Hagrid." Hermione knew what was coming next, and was desperately trying to think of a polite way to turn Hagrid down.

They walked toward a sheltered space beside the courtyard. Hagrid kept giving Hermione nervous looks while fiddling with the strap to the sack he was carrying. Finally, when they were out of earshot of the students, Hagrid began to speak: "Hermione I just heard, and I want you to know…" He started to kneel, realised he was still taller than she was, and sat on the ground. "I know you want a husband you don't have to share. I'm not married, no girlfriends either. And I've always loved you, ever since you were a little girl." At which point Hermione sat down next to him, and took his enormous hand in hers.

"Yes, you've been a lovely friend all these years, especially when we were little, and I think I know what you are going to say next. I don't need to be rescued, and that's the only reason you're doing this."

"I could be a good husband to you Hermione, better than _he_ could, at least."

Hermione sighed, "I'm sure you would, but…" she faltered, searching for a way to say what she was thinking. "I don't think there is a delicate way to say this: you're just too big for me."

Hagrid looked confused for a moment, and then a look of understanding washed over his face. "Oh."

"Yes. And since the whole point of this is to make babies…"

A scarlet blush rose on the exposed bits of his face. "You don't breed Clydesdales to Shetland Ponies."

"Exactly." Hermione kept her voice crisp, sensing that he'd be even more embarrassed if she was too tender.

With that he started to stand up. "You aren't serious about Snape? He killed Dumbledore."

"And you and I both saw the memory of Dumbledore asking him to do it. If Dumbledore had asked you, would you have done it?"

"No, I never could have. Never. Dumbledore was the best friend I had ever had… I still hate him for doing it, even if Dumbledore was already dying, even if the alternative was Malfoy… You don't kill your friends."

"You've put animals down when they were hurt and dying?"

"It's not the same." Hermione realised that this was a gaping wound in Hagrid's soul and poking it further would do no good.

"We had drinks last night. He's different than we remember him. Ask Harry if you don't believe me. He's convinced that it's actually someone else pretending to be Snape. Why anyone would want to do that I can't imagine." She shook her head. "Shall we head to lunch?"

Lunch was a debacle. Neville Longbottom had many fine qualities, but the ability to sit on a piece of juicy gossip was not among them. By the time Hermione sat down at the head table, all of the other professors were watching her, and the gossip mill was churning along freely.

Professor Trelawney predicted doom and gloom with an extra helping of heartache. Flitwick and Slughorn both proposed. McGonagall said nothing but kept looking at her strangely. Hermione was actually glad when a formal duel broke out between John Thompson, Gryffindor, and Eric MacHuffin, Slytherin, over the fair Elana Vance, Ravenclaw. Because Hermione taught all three in her Arithmancy NEWT she ended up in charge of 'helping them come to a solution.'

She found herself pacing about an empty classroom, both of the boys in full body binds, Elana sitting in a chair between them.

"I don't care which one of them you pick!" she said to Elana. "Take both of them, I think that's legal under the current law, but we will not have any more of this silliness."

Elana looked up at her, eyes wide with an idea that had never occurred to her before. "I can have both of them?"

"I don't see why not. But, I also don't see why you'd want either of them, let alone both of them. Idiots who can't keep their temper in check are unlikely to make good husbands."

Hermione turned to face John and Eric, both of whom had gone pale at the idea of sharing Elana for the rest of their lives. "Now, I am going to leave this room and lock the door. The door will not open until you three have some sort of settlement. May I also add: I will be looking for physical damage and will remove 50 points from each house for any cuts, scrapes, bruises, or signs of pain that I find upon your exit." And with that she released the boys, left the room, and sealed the door.

"God save me from lovesick, horny teenagers!"


	9. In Which Hermione Is Slapped With Wedded

Chapter 9: In Which Our Heroine Is Slapped In the Face with Wedded Bliss

It was 9:45 Sunday morning, and in a few moments the seventh year girls would be joining her for 'an informal discussion.' Hermione decided the room would do, twenty cushy chairs arranged in a circle, interspersed with small tables bearing tea and nibbles. This wasn't a formal class, and she wasn't about to lecture them for hours about chastity, the lack thereof, and the consequences therewith.

She weeded the seventh years out because there really wasn't too much point in going over the 'Why you shouldn't get pregnant in school' part of the discussion. NEWTS were the week after next, and for the ones who weren't pregnant already getting tripped up in the next few weeks wouldn't make all that much of a difference. So what was she going to do with this class? _Feed them tea and biscuits and try to get them to pretend to be interested in school for the sake of the younger ones. Bugger!_

None of them would be going on for further schooling, at least anytime soon. And it wasn't like any jobs were hiring young witches these days either. _No sense in hiring someone you'll have to replace in less than a year._ They'd be getting married and cranking out babies. From what she had seen in Harry and Ginny's house little babies took a lot of time and effort. And with a mother and eight sisters-in-law to share baby care with, Ginny had it pretty easy. Most of these girls wouldn't be in that kind of situation. _How many of them are orphans because of Vold War II?_

On that grim note, the girls began to file into the room, chatting happily. _At least they're in a good mood. Why shouldn't they be? They're young, in love, and getting married in the next few months. It won't hit most of them for months if not years. _

When they all settled down, Hermione also sat down, grabbed a cup of tea, and began to talk. "So the reason we're all here today is to discuss the new Marriage Law, how it will effect you, and how you effect the younger girls. First off, who is planning on leaving town to avoid the law or get the bounty on a foreign spouse?" Five hands went up. "I've got handouts about magical communities in America and Australia. They're the ones I know personally, and I've got a sister-in-law who will be thrilled to tell any of you all you want to know about France. Her name and floo is on the handout as well."

"Second of all, how many of you are expecting?" Four hands went up, along quite a bit of giggling. "How many of you who aren't pregnant intend to rectify that situation before graduation?" Three more hands went up. This time with blushes. "So the remaining seven of you are undecided, waiting until you get married, or just don't have enough access to your beloved at this time." Nods went around the room.

"I am not here to yell at you for getting pregnant before you get married. I'm not even here to tell you to wait until you get married. I am here to hammer one thing into your heads: We don't want the fifth and sixth years getting pregnant and dropping out of school. We don't want them turning seventeen and immediately starting on the next generation. We want all of you to finish school. I know it might not seem terribly important right this second, but your education is valuable. So please, do not encourage the younger girls to get pregnant. And by encourage, I mean, please do not be telling them tales of your current glorious romances, and how much fun they are. We don't want them running off to find one as soon as possible. Give them the time to finish their education."

Daisy Creevy, with more guts than brains, asked, "Why? I mean that's what we're supposed to do. Get married, make babies…"

Hermione cut her off, "What are you going to do after you get done with babies? Even if you crank out ten of them, you're still only busy for thirty years. What do you do with the rest of your life?"

"Take care of your husband?" Daisy answered, less sure of herself.

"How much taking care of can one man need? And, yes, I am aware that you and Peter Plumm are engaged. Even he isn't a full time job. That's where finishing your education comes in. It won't be soon, but eventually you'll want to do something other than babies, and when you do, you'll need skills besides nappy changing.

"All of you will be finishing school with several NEWT levels a piece. This gives you the tools you need to do what you want to later in your lives. If the younger girls start getting pregnant as soon as they turn seventeen, or worse, younger, they won't have those skills. They'll hit the point in their lives where they aren't taking care of kids anymore, and what will they do? Come back here at fifty to finish their NEWT levels?" Most of the girls laughed, but Hermione had the sinking sensation that she just might have come up with a better prophecy than anything Sybil had said in the last seven years.

"Most of us will live to be at least one hundred and twenty if not a good bit older. If you've only got the skills you need to take you the first fifty years, that's a lot of time to be miserably bored.

"I've said my bit; the rest of this is up to you. The floor is open to discussion, debate, questions, or just showing off engagement rings."

The girls talked among themselves for a few moments before Alexandra Denny, a Ravenclaw who was leaving town after graduation, asked "Professor, what are you going to do?"

Thirty-eight eyes stared at Hermione. She stared back. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you aren't married. Will you be leaving? Will you get married? What are you going to do?"

"I'm…" she paused, thinking about how much she wanted to reveal to her students."I'm not really sure. I'd like to stay. I enjoy my job quite a bit."

"How are you going to keep working with babies of your own?" This time Alicia Harding voiced the question.

"Ummm..." Hermione thought fast. "I've got eight sisters-in-law, and they do a baby sharing thing where two or three of them take care of all the kids one day, and then they swap around. I guess as soon as I was done nursing I'd be part of that."

"But you can't work and nurse?" asked a black haired Hufflepuff.

"I suppose you could, but I know I wouldn't want to. Ginny… Mrs Potter, has a six week old at home and she eats every three or four hours."

"All day and night?" Alicia seemed horrified by the idea.

"All day and all night." Hermione was equally horrified by the idea. She was rather fond of her sleep.

"Wouldn't your husband support you?" chirped another girl.

"As I said, I like my job, and I don't have a husband yet, but I'm sure I'll marry one that has enough income so I don't have to work when the babies are very little."

"Could he care for the babies while you worked?" Amber Spence of Ravenclaw asked.

"I don't see why not. I've seen a few Muggle families set up that way, but you need enough income to last for as long as you aren't working, and a job that will take you back after."

"Why do you have to stop working?" And this was where Hermione ran full on into a huge gaping chasm of ignorance.

She looked mildly embarrassed. "I grew up with Muggles, and they need at least a few weeks to heal up from having a baby. I think we need to get Madame Pomfrey down here to answer any more specific questions about having babies in the Wizarding World, because I just don't know. It's not like I've had any of my own."

"Did you fill out the questionnaire?" asked Alicia.

"Yes, I did."

"How many matches did you have? Were there lots?" asked a dreamy eyed Gryffindor.

"No, but I was very specific about what I was looking for in a man."

"And you ended up with Headmaster Snape?" Hermione didn't catch which one of the girls had asked that one, but she did notice the incredulity of the voice.

"Yes, I did."

"Is he as scary as he was when he was here?"

She knew this was not an area she wanted to discuss further. "Headmaster Snape and all dealings concerning him are now off limits."

"Don't you want to get married?" Rose Johnson, one of the brighter girls, one she was hoping would go to America with her at the end of the term asked.

"Not really. But I want to keep my job."

"Why wouldn't you want to get married?" The Slytherin who asked looked amazed that anyone wouldn't want to get married. Of course, she'd probably had a family she'd marry into, if not a specific husband, picked out since before she was born.

Hermione felt a headache coming on. "I did want to get married. At your age I wanted to get married very badly, but my man didn't make it home from the War. Since then I haven't had much interest."

She heard the class murmur and then a sparkly looking Hufflepuff added, "Well, this could be your chance to find a new man."

Hermione sighed, while the girl nearest the Hufflepuff poked her in the ribs and said in a very loud whisper, "Don't you remember Headmaster Snape?" The Hufflepuff blanched white when the memory of Snape stole into her mind.

"Look, being married usually doesn't mean the end of your career. Most of the time, you get married, live happily with one another, and eventually, if you want them, you have children. All of us are going to miss out on that gradual building of a relationship. If any single thing about this appalling Law should make you angry, it's that. There won't be time for learning about each other. There won't be quiet Sundays spent reading. Dinners for two will be few and far between. You won't get to sleep in on the weekends wrapped in each other's arms. All the special stuff, all the romance, all the good stuff will be rushed, and then…" Hermione realized that nineteen pairs of eyes were looking at her in stupefaction. They were young, engaged, happy, and living the dream. They hadn't lived long enough to develop more sophisticated dreams. "Never mind, who picked the biggest, fluffiest, whitest dress?"


	10. In Which Snape Debates Dessert

Chapter 10: In Which Snape Debates Dessert

"I'll cook; you bring dessert. I prefer citrus or light chocolate." Those were the last words Hermione said to him before apparating away to meet the Boy who Got Way More Press Than He Deserved.

This left Snape in a quandary. What exactly is light chocolate? Does it mean something with a small amount of chocolate: vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce? Something with a fluffy texture: chocolate mousse? Or something low-fat: chocolate angel food cake? After spending a pleasant half-hour with his mother's cookbooks Snape decided to go with a lemon tart. Light chocolate was a dessert minefield he did not wish to enter.

Snape had begun cooking shortly after he inherited Spinner's End. Previously his mother or Hogwarts had provided him with food. Then, in the summer of 1987, he found himself in a situation where he needed to feed himself. He was not surprised that he was good at it. Cooking and potions were not all that far removed from each other. He was surprised that he enjoyed it. The tactile experience was rewarding in and of itself. Touching the food, the careful application of heat and knife, the smells, and the sounds all provided a thoroughly rewarding experience. A luscious end product was the proverbial icing on the cake. (Not that he was a big fan of cake. He didn't have much of a sweet tooth.)

A properly constructed lemon tart, which balances sweet with sour and smooth with flaky, struck him as an appropriate symbol for tonight's meeting. Like any cooking, he began by popping a CD in the player and then rounding up his ingredients. While Nine Inch Nails (who he had come to know and enjoy by confiscating a CD from a student) pulsed through his flat, he gathered flour, sugar, salt, butter, lemons, eggs and cream.

While cutting butter into the flour mixture for the crust, he wondered about the proper way to go about presenting a tart. _Does one just hand it over? Is some sort of flourish involved? How do I do this without looking like a moron? _He noticed he was in danger of turning the dough into paste. He stopped his knife work and began to add water to the dough. Concentrating on his efforts, not wanting to end up with a soggy lump, he finished the crust and placed it in the oven to bake.

As the crust cooled, he began to wonder about what to do once he got to Granger's home. He understood the basics of talk and eat, but what else? The more he thought about it the more he realized he had never been on a real date. Madame Puddifoot's as a fifth year, Lily's at the end of seventh, and the occasional one-night-stand did not constitute a real date, let alone dinner at a woman's home. He wished he hadn't discarded the Ministry's pamphlet on courtship. It would have probably been useless, but it might have been able to tell him whether to bring a gift, or expect sex.

He folded whipped cream into the lemon curd while thinking about his visit to Lily's house after seventh year. The closest he had come to a date. The closest he had come to a lot of things.

"That was hardly a date." Like always her voice came from behind him.

"I know, but it's the romantic highlight of my life."

"That's depressing." She came around to lean against the counter while he spooned the filling into the crust.

"While you were shagging Potter, I was infiltrating the Death Eaters and harboring an all encompassing love for you. That left romance pretty low on my to-do list."

"I've been dead for twenty-three years. How hard would it have been to have found someone else in all that time?"

"It's not that simple."

Lily smiled gently at him. "Of course it was. All you had to do was let me go."

"How was I to do that?" He turned towards her; his arms crossed over his chest. "Especially before it was done? I got you killed, remember."

"You know that isn't true."

"It's true enough." He paused, looking wishful. "I got my dreams of you, of us, killed. Is that better?"

"Much. It's hard to live without dreams, Sev, but I think it's more than time for you to get some new ones."

"I'm trying."


	11. In Which Hermione Explores Her Grief

Chapter 11: In Which Hermione Explores Her Grief

Hermione returned home in a wretched mood. Her students had spent the remaining hour looking at wedding and bridesmaid's dresses in the special 'Summer Wedding' edition of Witch Weekly. Apparently tulle, lace, and beads would be in short supply this summer. Her seventh years would be using every scrap available to make the most ostentatious piles of glittery fabric concoctions ever seen. Restraint was not a word currently in any of their vocabularies.

She tried to put those depressing thoughts out of her mind as she walked to her kitchen. Hermione checked on the chicken and saw that it was brining along nicely. It would be ready for the oven in a few more hours. She then grabbed the bread dough and worked quite a bit of her frustration out on it. _Nothing like beating a piece of dough to help relieve stress! _She divided it into rolls and began to shape them. The motion was smooth and automatic, something for her hands to do while her mind wandered about, and it wandered to her dinner companion.

_What am I doing eating dinner with Snape? What am I doing thinking about marrying Snape? Am I really that desperate? Am I trying to punish myself? Am I trying to make sure that no relationship ever lives up to the one I had with Ron? _She paused on that thought, her hands stilling. _Yes! If I enjoy someone else, then he's really dead. _

She finished the rolls and left them to proof. Hermione walked to her bathroom and began to fill the tub; she studied herself in the mirror. She still looked like she did before the War. The wounds on her back and shoulders had healed without scarring. Her hair hid the scar at her left temple, and her smile could hide the scars on her soul, almost.

_I look almost the same; why can't I feel the same? _She lowered herself into the bath. _Ron has been dead for six years, eight months, two weeks, and nine days. He's not coming back. Everyone has been telling you for years now that he would not have wanted you to mourn him forever. Hell, his parents want you to find someone else. His sister was sitting in your room telling you what outfits to wear to turn a new guy on. So why can't you let him go?_

An image filled her mind, the last time she saw Ron. He was lying on the floor of Malfoy Manor. Fred and George had just burst into the room; Bellatrix dropped her knife and apparated out of there. Ron lay on the floor, broken and bleeding, his blood pulsed weakly from where his fingers had been. He looked up at her, his love for her, his satisfaction at keeping her safe radiated from his eyes. His head fell back to the ground. He was dead before Fred could bring her to him.

_I can't let him go because he lived for me. He should have died, but he didn't. He took pain after pain for me. To keep her amused. He didn't let go until I was safe. How do I move on from that?_

She stepped out of the tub and dried off. A quick glance at the clock showed her there was enough time, if she was willing to do it, if she was brave enough to do it. She looked at her floo. _What's the point of being a Gryffindor if I can't do this?_ Before allowing herself another thought she flooed George.

She saw Angelina in the flames and asked if she could talk to George. A moment later he appeared in the fire.

"What's up Hermione, don't you have a date in a few hours? Shouldn't you be flooing Ginny?"

"I need help, but not that kind. We picked out the outfit yesterday. George," she paused, how to say what needed to be said? "Everyone tells me that I need to move on, and let Ron go. You're the only other one who saw what she did to him. How do I let that go? How do I move on from that?"

George's carefree smile fell. "Hold on, I'm coming through."

A second later, a much more serious George stepped into her room and sat down next to her on the edge of her bed. "We should have talked this through years ago."

"I don't think I could have then. I'm still not sure I can now."

"You know he kept alive so that she wouldn't torture you."

"Yes, I still have nightmares about it sometimes."

"Me too, less often now. I've had a lot less nightmares since we started having kids. A lot less sleep…" He grinned, trying to muster some humour so they both didn't start crying. "But… I can't imagine he did that, went through it so you would spend the rest of your life hurting for him. He was trying to protect you from pain, not make sure you spent the rest of your life trapped in it."

"I know. I really do, but... How do I honour that? He was saving my life, saving my body, how do I share it with someone else? It was his, and now, now he's not here to claim it." She kicked idly at the dust ruffle on her bed.

George scooted closer to her, wrapping a brotherly arm around her shoulders. "Look, Hermione, there is no way to 'let this go,' no way to 'move on.' That's crap from people who don't know anything about real grief. All there is is finding a way to live with it, and live as well as you can for the people who didn't make it home. I make sure I get one really good laugh in a day, especially on days when I don't feel like it, because that's my tie to Fred. No matter what, we could always laugh." George's expression softened as he remembered his missing twin.

"This might sound mean, and I'm not saying to make Ron sound shallow, but he was seventeen. What he liked best was sex, with you. He was an insufferable prat for days after the first time you did it. Like he had seen the bloody sun for the first time. He loved your body, and the way it made him feel, the way he could make you feel. He wouldn't have wanted you to miss out on that. He wouldn't have missed out on it himself. If it had been you, he would have found another woman by now. He'd still love you, but he'd love her as well.

"You know," he continued, "Percy is a stuck up git, but he's not stupid. It's easier to go forward with the kids. You spend less time looking back. You have less time to look back. I've been wondering for a few months now if that's not part of this new law, a way of trying to force people to move forward. As I said, I've been having fewer nightmares since we had the kids, and I know Angelina is doing better. I think that's true of Harry and Ginny as well. I'm not saying that kids are the answer, and that popping a few of them out will make everything better, but I think it helps."

George flashed a dazzling smile, and the arm around her shoulder stopped feeling like the embrace of a brother. "Now, speaking of kids and shagging, how about you ditch Snape and come home with me tonight? Angelina and Deidre could take the kids out and we could have some time to ourselves…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione began to smile. She punched him lightly in the arm, and then hugged him. "You always do make me feel better."

"All part of the service." This time his smile was smaller. "But seriously, we'd be happy to have you as part of the family. Lots of laughs at our place."

"I'm not sharing a husband, as much as I like Angelina and Deidre, I don't want to split you three ways."

He grinned. "There's always more than enough of me to go around. After all, I'm living for two."


	12. In Which We Have Dinner

Chapter 12: In Which We Have Dinner

By the time Hermione had gotten the chicken and rolls into the oven, she was feeling better. Not healed, she wasn't sure that would ever really happen, but better. Whatever else George had to say, he was right that Ron would not still be pining over her. Could she love him and love someone else? Was her heart so small there was only room for one man there? She didn't know, but she was more willing to find out than she had ever been before.

She dunked the haricot vert in ice water to stop their cooking. Right before serving she'd give them a quick toss in a hot pan with shallot butter, but for now they were better off cold. All that was left was set the table, three wand swishes and that was done, and get dressed.

Like most muggle-born witches, Hermione didn't have much use for robes around the house. She was more comfortable in jeans, trainers, and some sort of shirt. Tonight she had opted for comfy clothes, comfy food, and hopefully a comfy evening. Maybe nothing would set her heart afire, but it was also likely nothing would be stomping it into ashes either. She pulled on her favourite jeans, a white cotton button down shirt, and her woolly socks. She looked at herself critically in the mirror when she finished her makeup. _No, the poets will not be writing of my beauty tonight, but they also won't be running away in horror either._

It was good enough. Time to wait for Snape._  
_

"Severus," she said his name out loud, and it hit her, she had never, not once in fourteen years, said his first name. It felt odd to her tongue. "Severus." Her voice rolling over the syllables was almost obscene, too intimate. He was Snape. Professor Snape if you were feeling particularly respectful. Greasy Git if you weren't. And, unless she was about to be rescued by another well-intentioned twit, he was knocking on her door.

She opened the door and found him standing patiently, holding a box that she hoped contained something yummy. "Come in."

"Hello." He handed her the box while scanning the room intently; tension releasing when he saw it was safe. _Old habits die hard_.

A living room that flowed into a dining room met his gaze. The furniture was had clean modern lines, without looking stark or harsh. The color palette was mostly browns livened up with violet and green accessories. Unlike most Wizarding homes, hers was equipped with all the mod cons. She liked TV as well as books and enjoyed good music. So her living room was equipped for all three. His eyes lit up when he saw the CD player.

"I was hoping you'd have one of those."

"You're a muggle music fan?" The idea that Snape might like music, let alone muggle music had never occurred to Hermione.

"Oh yes," he walked towards her collection of CDs to see what she had. "My father was a muggle, so were all of my cousins, and our home was located in a muggle neighborhood." He looked at her CDs in silence, seeing they were mostly pieces from the 90's with a little 70's, 80's, and a few newer disks. They tended toward rock, with a smattering of well-chosen grunge, and a few bits of pop. On the lower shelf sat the classical collection, which he didn't know enough about to form an opinion on. "An acceptable collection, I was hoping to see no sign of Spice Girls in your home."

"Perish the thought! Since you know your way around a CD player, why don't you put something on?" She was pleased to see he was comfortable with muggle technology. That would make things easier if there were to be any long term plans.

Severus sat on the floor in front of her CD rack and began to really look through it. He decided to go with Derek and the Dominos, The Layla Sessions. It was hard to go wrong with Eric Clapton on the guitar. And, not owning that CD himself, he was looking forward to seeing what was on it.

Bluesy music began to wind through Hermione's home. Severus looked up at her, "I grew up with this kind of music; how did you find it?"

"One of the friends I made in America is an ex-pat. He's a huge fan of all Brit-Rock older than 1990, and he took it upon himself to fill in the bits I had missed courtesy of being too young. I couldn't really get into the punk or hard metal stuff, but a lot of the smoother music has now found a home in my collection. I've also found that quite a bit of American rock from the 90's has a similar sound profile to what I liked about 70's." She paused to listen to the guitar work, not one of her favourite CDs, but it would do. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes. What are you serving?"

"Follow me, and I'll show you your options." She held out her hand to help him stand up. He took it and levered himself off of the floor. His hand was warmer than she had expected and smoother. She held it a second longer than necessary, enjoying the contact, before releasing it and turning towards the kitchen. "I didn't know what you drank, so I've got lots of options…"

He inhaled deeply as they stepped into her kitchen. "Smells good, roast chicken?"

"Yes. I was going for comfort food."

"If this tastes as good as it smells, it will be beyond comfort and into sublime." He smiled at her. She smiled back.

"Nice compliment."

"Thank you. I've been trying to think of good ones all day." This time she laughed.

She gestured to the drinks lining her counter. "I've got beer, ale, wine, and water. Pop and iced tea are in the fridge."

"Pop?"

"Pepsi. Pop is an Americanism that got stuck in my vocabulary. They all called it pop, as in soda pop, although I understand that's common usage only it the bit of the country I was in. I can't seem to get the word out of my mind, so I end up explaining it to everyone I offer the beverage to."

He looked at the drinks on the counter and selected an ale. She decided to go with iced tea, another Americanism, but one that she was hoping would catch on in Britain as soon as possible.

She picked up the box he had brought. "Does this go in the fridge?"

"Yes."

She held it gently, trying to guess by feel what might be in it. "Can I look, or is it a surprise?"

"By all means, look."

She opened the box to see the pale, creamy yellow top of a lemon tart. He thought he heard her whisper something like, "Oohh lovely!" but wasn't quite sure. She noticed that the box had no bakery sticker on it. "Did you make it?"

He looked proudly at it. "Yes I did, unless it's terrible, in which case I got it from a bakery around the corner." She chuckled and cleared a space in the refrigerator for the tart. Finally she settled it, and turned to him.

"You bake?"

"Yes, but not often. I prefer cooking to baking. Cooking allows for more improvisation. Baking requires stricter attention to set rules."

She inclined her head to indicate agreement with his understanding of the culinary arts. "I thought you were all about rules."

"Only when dealing with young Gryffindors." He looked puzzled for a moment. "Didn't Potter show you my old Potions book?"

"Yes."

"Did you see much evidence of rule following there?"

"No. That's probably why I couldn't figure out who it belonged to." She glanced at the timer on the oven. "Dinner will be ready in a moment."

He leaned against her dishwasher, sipping his drink and watched her levitate the chicken and rolls to cooling racks. She heated a cast iron fry pan while speaking, "We're having roast chicken, rolls, and haricot vert. I just need to finish off the haricot vert."

"Would you like me to carve the chicken?"

"Yes, please."

She tossed the vert in the hot shallot butter and watched him handle the chicken. He picked up the carving knife, held it for a second to get a feel for its balance, and then began to cut. His strokes were sure and clean. Here was a man, no, a wizard, who had the manual dexterity to disassemble a chicken by knife. She found herself smiling, thrilled at the display of skill. He looked up and saw her smile.

"Never seen a man cut a chicken before?"

"The last time I saw someone other than me go after a chicken with a knife... Well, let's just say the results were suitable for pot pie, not serving on a platter."

He grinned at her words, tidily slicing the breast.

She plated dinner and led him back to her table. "Here's to fine food and conversation."

He raised his glass to her toast. "So, what have you been up to since we last met?"

"The worst two hours of my career at Hogwarts. I got to teach the seventh years about sex, relationships, and marriage. According to Minerva the reason a single, never-married woman got the job was 'you're closer to their age, maybe they'll listen to you."

"Ah yes, page three of the 'Albus Dumbledore Handbook for Making Young Teacher's Hate You.' That would be how I ended up teaching ballroom dance during my third year as an instructor. Let me just say, I have done many, many unpleasant things during my stay at Hogwarts, and trying to get a group of fidgety fourth years to rumba was the least pleasant." He smiled to show he was joking, and she smiled back at the idea of him teaching ballroom dance.

"At least that's probably good fodder for funny stories. Today's class was just absolutely heartbreaking. Imagine me in a room with nineteen girls, only five of which have the brains to not get married within minutes of getting out of Hogwarts. Something like five of them are pregnant, another bunch will be in the next few weeks, and right now their biggest concern is who will have the fluffiest meringue of a dress."

"Ouch."

"Indeed. How about you? What have you been up to? Better yet, what do you do these days?"

"I'm a Potions Master."

"I thought that was your position at Hogwarts."

"No, Potions Master is a title indicating an advanced level of training. Slughorn teaches potions, and he's very good at it, but he didn't do the extra work to become a Master. I think I'm the only one on this island. There's about eight more on the continent.

"Most of what I do these days is consulting. People send me formulas that don't quiet work, and I fix them. My most recent job has been trying to get a time delay potion that's versatile enough to work with any, or at least most, other potions."

Hermione nodded, grasping the issue quickly. "And the biggest problem with that idea is creating a formula that will do what needs to be done in a predictable manner."

"Exactly, a time delay can be created for any potion, the problem with this one is that it has to work for every potion."

"Are you close?"

He grinned ruefully. "No, but I've at least gotten to the point where I know what the error in the formula I've been given is, and how to begin setting up the problem so I can work on finding a solution."

"So where do you work?" she asked, fork paused en route to her mouth.

"Out of my home. I have a small but very well stocked lab."

She chewed thoughtfully for a few seconds and then began to ask him about the specifics of the problem. The conversation consumed them, magical ideas, ingredients, and laws bounced back and forth. It was during a pause that Hermione noticed the food was gone, the music had ended, and two hours had gone by.

"How about we move to the couch and put a dent in that tart you made?"

He stood up and stretched. "Sounds good."

"What would you like to drink with it? If you want coffee I can make some…" Her voice grew softer as she vanished into the kitchen, the dishes hovering behind her. She returned a moment later, tart, forks, plates, and serving knife in tow. A small bottle of a yellow liquid cupped in her hands. "I just remembered I have this. One of Fleur's cousins from the France/Spain border makes it. It's kind of like Limoncello, but not quite so sweet and heavy. It should be perfect with the tart."

She served the dessert while watching him settle on her sofa. He looked at ease, comfortable in her home and presence. He watched her watching him, his face warm and animated. She handed him his drink and plate, and sat on the other end of the couch. She sighed at the taste of the tart, while he appreciated the liqueur.

It was the ease in his face that made her wonder. She had never imagined that he could look this way. Who was this sitting on her couch? As Harry said, this wasn't stress relief, this was a new personality.

She took a sip of her drink while trying to figure out a nice way to ask her question; failing that she took another sip trying to think of a less insulting way; failing that as well she took one more sip for extra courage.

"This has been a wonderful evening, and I don't think I've enjoyed a conversation more than the one we've been having in a very long time, but I've got to know: what happened to the Snape the Greasy Git, Bat of the Dungeons, Evil Sodding Bastard, whose only joy in life was taking points from Gryffindors?


	13. In Which We Have Dessert

Chapter 13: In Which We Have Dessert

Snape sat on Hermione's couch and watched her think. She had forgotten to, or didn't see the need to, hide her thoughts, so he was prepared for the question she was working up the courage to ask. While he watched images of himself from her Hogwarts days flash though her mind, her heard Lily's voice, "…you'd better tell her, or she'll never be rid the image of you as the man who used to torment her for fun."

_Tell the whole truth? No, not if you can help it. You can let her know more later, as you get to know each other better. If it looks like she can keep the secret._

Finally she spoke, "This has been a wonderful evening, and I don't think I've enjoyed a conversation more than the one we've been having in a very long time, but I've got to know; what happened to the Snape the Greasy Git, Bat of the Dungeons, Evil Sodding Bastard, whose only joy in life was taking points from Gryffindors?

_Humour?_ "Well, the Greasy Git was one part the anti-glamour I told you about earlier, one part bad ventilation in the potions lab, and one part atrocious water pressure in the dungeons. You'd think that a magical castle would be able to get a decent shower in place, but no…" He smiled and saw that was exactly the wrong technique. Her body language had stiffened, and she was no longer smiling.

"I've had every male member of the Hogwarts staff ask me to marry him in the last two days, as well as three students who remember Headmaster Snape," she said quickly; her voice was hard. "All of them are out to rescue me from what they think is a fate worse than death. I am immensely enjoying this new you, but I want to know what happened to the old one, and which one of you is real."

_Humour isn't going to do it. Resignation?_ He sighed. "We're both real. Part of the Snape you remember was based on the fact that no one could have any memory of me ever being kind to Potter or his friends. My role was 'Barely Underground Death Eater, Loyal Servant of the Dark Lord,' and as long as I was convincing in that role, I could continue feeding information to Dumbledore. Likewise, I could continue feeding Voldemort whatever information Dumbledore wanted him to have. One part frustration: it's not much of a secret, but I really do not enjoy teaching. Most of my skills were going to waste trying to keep students from turning delicate ingredients into muck. Do something you loathe every day for sixteen years and you'll not be a ray of sunshine either. And one part stress: every single move I made was being watched. Any slip up, seen by anyone could have been my downfall. I may not have been happy those years, but I certainly did not want to die because I made a mistake in front of some nameless Hufflepuff who was then captured by the Dark Lord.

"The new me, well I'm not under that kind of pressure anymore. I'm doing work I like. I don't live in a dungeon anymore for God's sake! Annoying little brats aren't yipping at me with questions. Albus Bleeding Dumbledore isn't constantly coming up with new and interesting ways to make my life even less pleasant. Voldemort isn't looking over my shoulder. I'm alive. I'm free. And I've gotten to a point where I'm at peace with the world.

"I've always admired your mind. You know you were the only person I got to teach in those five years who had any grasp of potions. And if you think about it, you know who was also in your class, all of those years, who kept me from ever showing the slightest appreciation for those skills."

She looked at him, judging his words, almost tasting them. He could feel her come to her conclusion; she could tell what he was saying was true, and that it wasn't the whole story. Finally she said, "You were horrible to me even when we were alone."

"Do you know how Legilimency works?"

"Yes, it allows you to…"

"I'm sorry. I know you know how the spell works. I mean have you ever done the spell? Do you know first-hand how it works?"

"No."

"Cast it on me, and you'll see why no one, not even you, could have any memory of me doing something counter to Death Eater philosophy."

She looked into his eyes, concentrated, and cast the spell silently. Images tumbled through her mind: Snape putting a CD in his player. Snape getting ingredients out of his pantry. Snape mixing the dough. Snape talking to a redhead while spooning the filling into the crust. Snape staring longingly at a closet filled with black clothes before turning around and grabbing a green sweater. Snape at her door. Snape looking around her living room for the first time. She pulled back when she heard his voice again.

"You're not trained in Legilimency, but even you can see the danger. Voldemort was, he was the best that ever lived, and if he wanted to examine an image closer he could. He was also evil and paranoid. If he had run into any image that showed me acting in a manner he found unacceptable, he'd have plunged into my mind and dissected it and probably me." He noticed that Hermione wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying.

"Who was your friend?"

Snape looked puzzled. "Friend?"

"The redhead who was helping you cook."

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! How do I explain that? At least, she doesn't recognize Lily. _"Well, this would be exactly the kind of trouble I was talking about. I didn't know you could see her, or I would have left that memory out. She's not real."

Hermione was rapidly going from curious to disbelieving. He began to speak quickly, "Wait. She's… I've been living alone for a long time, and had no one to confide in for an even longer time. I talked to myself for a long time, and eventually she started to answer back. She's the voice in my head that keeps me honest with myself. She's the better part of me. She's…"

"Your Jiminy Cricket?"

"Huh?' His mind whirled and landed upon an asinine Disney flick. "I guess you could say that."

"So you developed a random redhead to talk to?"

_Say no and you tell her too much. Say yes and sound like a moron, an insane moron. _"No, she was a dear friend who was killed many years ago. When she was alive, she always had good advice for me, so she became my image of good advice later on." _Nice save._

Hermione looked at him closely, and for a moment he thought she might once more attempt Legilimency on him. Then he realised she was doing something much more dangerous. She was thinking analytically. She was putting facts together and coming up with a conclusion. He almost sighed out loud when that conclusion was 'leave it alone.'

He decided that his best chance now was a quick exit. Dessert was done, and it was legitimately getting late. He stood up. "I should probably be going."

She looked a bit confused at his rapid change of plans, but then she glanced at the clock. "Yes, I've got class in the morning. Wandless magic bright and early."

"I'd like to sit in on one of those classes if I could."

"I don't see why not." _Good she's still friendly. _

"Do you want to floo or apparate?" she asked. He looked around and didn't see anything even remotely approaching a fireplace.

"It's in my bedroom," she said as he looked around.

"Floo then, quite a bit more comfortable." He followed her through the kitchen, past the loo, to a staircase that led to a large loft. Along the far wall stood her bed_. Not too many pillows, good!_ To the right he could see two doors. _Bath and closet, most likely._ To the left: a fireplace flanked by bookshelves and a large cushy chair. All of which were muted shades of cream and blue.

"Lovely room. It gets good light during the day?"

"Yes it does. Not that I'm here much during the day… but on those rare occasions…"

They walked to the fireplace. She was standing in front of him, looking up. He didn't need legilimency to read her thought. _Kiss me!_ It was written all over her posture and expression. He was quick to move on it. Severus laid a hand against her cheek, and her eyes closed. He drew his fingers down and let his thumb trace her bottom lip. She moved closer to him, and put her arms around him, while his hand curled around the back of her neck. He leaned down to kiss her. His lips lightly brushed hers, and then pressed more firmly. She tightened her hold on him, bringing more of her body against his. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth for him. His tongue stroked hers while she moved one of her hands into his hair. One minute, two? Finally she broke the kiss.

Out of breath, a pleasant flush on her cheeks, "Well, goodnight then."

Head spinning from more than the floo, Severus landed in his home thinking, _Damn, that girl can kiss!  
_


	14. In Which Hermione Dreams

Chapter 14: In Which Hermione Dreams

Hermione's dreaming mind took her back to the town of Godric's Hollow. She and Harry were walking hand in hand through the town, towards the church. Snape's Redhead kept intruding in the corners of her mind. She and Harry searched the graveyard, unable to find his parent's graves. The snow fell faster and thicker. She was becoming lost, unable to see Harry anymore. She stumbled forwards, banging her knees against tombstones invisible until it was too late to avoid them.

The snow vanished. She saw the Redhead standing next to Harry, looking at a grave. Harry was unaware of her. He knelt on the ground, his hands on a stone.

The scene shifted, and they were back at the Potter house. She glimpsed the Redhead through the window of the abandoned living room. Harry clutched her hand and tugged her away from the house.

They walked to the centre of the town, to the soldier's memorial that was also the statue of his family. The Redhead stood at the base of it. She looked at them, put one arm around Harry, the other around her, and then nodded at the memorial, "It's a good likeness isn't it?"

Hermione was awake and in a hurricane of emotions. Confusion, anger, surprise, shock, unease, and a few other emotions she hadn't yet had time to name, all lashed at her. She let the rush of emotions think for her. Less than a moment from awakening, she had grabbed the floo powder and was on her way to Snape.


	15. In Which We Explore Severus and Lily

Chapter 15: In Which We Explore Severus and Lily

Snape went from asleep to awake in less than a second. He had sprung up, reaching for his wand before his eyes were all the way open. A horrifying chill passed through him when he felt the wood of his bedside table and nothing else. His wand wasn't where it belonged. He turned to see his attacker, hoping whoever it was would kill him quickly, and saw Hermione standing in his doorway instead.

His heart began to calm down when he realized he was not in immediate danger of being killed. He took a deep breath, and heard her speak.

"Are you awake?"

"Quite." With the amount of adrenaline pumping through his system, he wasn't sure if he'd ever sleep again. Severus grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around himself. She tossed his wand back to him when his hands were free. He caught it deftly.

"Lily Potter. Your dear friend was Lily Potter." She almost spit the words at him.

He slumped back against the head of his bed when he heard her words.

"I think, Severus, there is more to your story than you let on earlier. You can tell me or not as you see fit. I can and will accept that you've got a past, and the baggage that goes with it, but I won't deal with games or lies. I had enough of that shit from Dumbledore."

He looked at her and heard another voice in the back of his head. "I told you that you needed to tell her."

He said to Hermione, "You may as well sit down." Snape gestured to the end of his bed. "It's a somewhat long story, so you may as well be comfortable. Trust is not something that comes easily to me, but if we are to marry I will need to trust you, so this will be the first exercise in trust. Potter is never, ever, no matter what, to know this. If it is a matter of you telling him what I am about to say to you tonight, or me dying, let me die. That is how intensely I do not want him to know this."

She nodded. The missing element was back. The darkness she remembered from her Hogwarts days was coalescing around him once more. This was the piece to the puzzle she had been looking for.

"Lily was the love of my life. I do not mean to sound like a romantic melodrama; I mean this as a literal truth. We met as children. I loved her from my first sight of her. She was the little redheaded girl who played in the park near my home. Eventually I learned she was a witch. She would jump off the swings at the park and slowly hover down to the ground. After two months of me watching her from afar, her sister saw me, and at that point it was talk or run. I didn't run. I told her she was a witch, and I was a wizard. We became friends.

"Our friendship grew in the three years before our letters came. By the time we set foot on the Hogwarts Express, we had our great magical futures planned out. Our first step: glory for Slytherin. That dream was destroyed by the Sorting Hat. I have never since hated the word Gryffindor as much as I did when that hat called it from her head.

"We saw less and less of each other. Malfoy noticed my brains, and I became the youngest member of his group. Lily was very popular; she always had a crowd of Gryffindor girls about her. We still spent our free time together. During those years Potter, Black, and Lupin decided that I needed to be attacked and insulted at every opportunity. Even with a three or four to one advantage, they rarely got the best of me.

"Like when you were in school, Slytherins and Gryffindors had potions together. We made sure to pair with each other every chance we got. Eventually Potions would be the majority of our time together.

"By fifth year my puppy crush had developed into love. Unfortunately I was not the only one who noticed how beautiful she was. Potter had as well. He decided that the best way to make her notice him was to be the biggest ponce in the history of the world. One day he, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew caught me unaware and had me unwanded before I could fight back. Lily came to my rescue, and in my embarrassment and anger I insulted her as well as them. I... said something horrible to her. She ran off, and I was afraid I had lost her.

"I spoke to her later that night, and she told me she wanted nothing to do with me: my friends were repulsive to her, and I had become repulsive as well. She left me, and I was devastated. I tried to think of a way to win her back, but nothing, not kindness, not poems, not little presents, worked. Finally luck looked my way.

"You know that Black tried to get me killed by Lupin. In the aftermath of that attack, Dumbledore spent a few minutes looking at me very carefully. Especially watching my eyes. I know now that he had been using Legilimency on me, to see if I was the right man for the job. He must have seen my desperation to win Lily back. Then he offered to buy my silence. If I would keep quiet about Lupin, he would give me a very important role in the coming war. I would be offered a place among the Death Eaters; he could see that Malfoy's crowd was grooming me for that. I would take that role and become his spy among that group. He would teach me Occlumency and Legilimency. I could tell Lily about it, but no one else.

"I agreed. Something so brave, so un-Pure Blood Supremacy was bound to win her heart. And for a while it did. When I told her, she was so proud. She was also interested in learning Occlumency and Legilimency. I actually had the cheek to bring her to my lessons with Dumbledore, and he was willing to teach us both. I think he knew that I would pick it up much faster, and better, if I had someone to practice with.

"By the end of sixth year I was the greatest Occulmense no one had ever heard of. There was only one test left, and that could not be arranged until I was in the presence of Voldemort. Lily and I had developed an odd talent through our studies. Legilimency is not telepathy, but our long friendship and learning together somehow created that kind of a link. We were fully telepathic with each other. Our potions studies increased as well. We worked mostly in my book. Writing our findings and notes, better ways to make potions, new spells we had created.

"In seventh year the Death Eaters and Malfoy began watching me more carefully, and my role as spy began. I had to appear to be amenable to Voldemort's plans, or they would not tap me for membership. I spent less and less time with Lily. Eventually we only saw each other in Potions class, although we could talk anytime due to our mind link. It was during that time she began to notice James. Handsome, funny, rich James. He had been trying to win her for years, and he rightly assessed the only thing standing between him and her was me. So our war continued, but out of her sight, because we both knew she didn't like to see it.

"Towards the end of seventh year they had gone out a few times, and we were still 'best friends.' A month after end of class, I became a Death Eater. The day after my initiation, I went to see her one last time. She had just begun her work as an Unspeakable. There are very few female Unspeakbles, so her first assignment was on the study of Woman's Magic. She had learned of a spell while doing that called the Hero's Farewell. She cast it on me that day, and I still carry her protection.

"We left each other that day sure the Victory Party was only months away. But of course it didn't work that way. And while I was off feeding information to the Order, being a picture perfect Death Eater, she was falling in love with James.

"She married him a year later.

"From that point on, everything went wrong. Dumbledore had me feed Voldemort part of a Prophecy. A year later I found out that she was the target of the Prophecy. There has been only one time I slipped out of my role. I could have died for it, but I didn't care. I begged Dumbledore to protect her, and Voldemort for mercy. Do you understand what I am saying? I knelt in front of the Dark Lord and begged him not to kill her. If there is any testament to the power of the protection she cast on me, it's the fact that he didn't kill me right then and there.

"He didn't kill me. Though in a matter of weeks, I was wishing that he had. I had failed her. The only person who was making my life worth living was dead, and I all but killed her myself. Dumbledore convinced me that my new role was to protect the son she had died to save. I swore to protect him. I never had a life debt to James; that was a convenient fiction. I did have such a debt to Lily.

"Did I hate Harry? No. Did I hate the fact that almost every day for six years I had to look into the face of James Potter and see Lily's eyes? Yes. I had to sit there and see the physical proof that she had loved him. She had chosen him. She had lived with him, slept with him, and had a child with him. That even though he had stayed home and played Quiddich, risking nothing, she chose him. I had to watch the proof that I had failed her every single day for ten months of the year.

"But, as Albus kept reminding me, this was Lily's beloved son, and I had sworn on her death to protect him. You can imagine my total, overwhelming sense of defeat when I finally learned that all we were doing was keeping him alive long enough to walk into his own death. Albus knew the whole time what the end of battle would be, and he kept it from me because he knew I would have walked away had he told me the truth.

"You saw me right before Nagini bit me. By that point I was ready to die. Harry was doomed. Lily was dead. I had failed everything that mattered to me. I could not win her, I could not save her, I could not avenge her, and I could not protect her son.

"I left the memories with Harry, and then I... I'm not sure; I thought I died. I was with Lily, and we were in a grove of trees near the river where we had grown up. I begged her forgiveness. She told me there was nothing to forgive. That all of it had happened the way it had needed to be. Time passed, and I began to feel the weight of all those years of misery lift.

"I woke a week later, still in the Shrieking Shack. Somehow it escaped the destruction of Hogsmeade. I turned myself in, and the rest you're familiar with. Ever since then, she's been there when I talk to myself. I don't think anyone else can see her. I think the reason you saw her was that you were looking at my memory of the event, and since I saw her, you did."

He heard Lily's voice in his mind. "You see, that wasn't so hard."

He was sitting at the head of his bed, blanket wrapped around his body, knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. Hermione was sitting at the foot of the bed, tears in her eyes. His eyes focused on her for the first time since his story began, and he asked, "Why were you so upset when you recognized Lily?"

"Once I knew who she was, I knew everything else you had told me was a lie."

"Everything I told you was true."

"Everything you told me was factually correct. But it was not true. The blackness, the Greasy Git, the animosity, all of that came from believing you failed Lily, and the mourning for her." She sat quietly thinking. "It's why you hated Neville, too. If Voldemort had chosen him instead of Harry..."

Severus shrugged. "The fact that he was a bloody nitwit didn't help, but yes, the core of it was he also sat there a constant reminder of Lily dead, and my part in it."

They sat quietly for a while, and he noticed that he was feeling more relaxed with her than he had with any other human in a very long time. He looked at the clock, "Shall I offer you an early breakfast?"

She glanced over as well, 5:30 in the morning. Her first class started in two and a half hours. "Yes, I'd like to see the rest of your house."

He smiled at her. "I had been looking forward to the first time you had breakfast here, but this isn't quite how I envisioned it."

"Well, this wasn't quite how I envisioned seeing you naked for the first time either." She smiled back


	16. In Which Hermione Has Dinner at Hogwarts

Chapter 16: In Which Hermione Has Dinner with the Staff

Hermione knew what she wanted to be doing. She also knew what she would be doing. And she knew neither option would resemble the other in any way. What she wanted was to be at home, snuggled in her bed, catching up on the sleep she missed out on last night. What she would be doing was catch a quick nap on her sofa before heading to dinner in the Great Hall, and then grading papers between rounds. No rest until Sinistra took over from her at 1:00 AM.

An hour's nap later, she felt somewhat less like the title character in Day of the Living Dead.

Dinner was her least favourite meal at Hogwarts. Both Harry and Neville went home to eat with their families on nights they didn't have rounds. As this was one of those nights, she would be eating between Flitwick, not so bad, and Trelawney, awful. So, at the very best, she'd have dull conversation on one side and uncomfortable silence on the other. But tonight was not going to be the very best. Tonight was going to be the culmination of hours of speculation.

Lunch had been all right. She and Harry had sat at the end of the great table, and that had curtailed much of the conversation from the rest of the staff about how Professor Granger was looking quite tired after her date, and she had missed breakfast. Now it was just her, and the questions were bound to be flying.

She sat down, said hello to Flitwick and Trelawney, and before she had even gotten her first bite of food into her mouth Trelawney began: "You should stay away from Severus. Nothing good will come from him. The inner eye sees much, but with him, only heartache and tragedy. Long painful strife…"

She didn't have the patience for this. "Come off it Sybil, you just don't like him. I don't blame you…"

"I don't like him?" Sybil sounded affronted. "He's the one who never gave me a moment of kindness. He hated me on first sight. I've always thought he was jealous of my talents."

Hermione sighed. She wished Harry could have heard that.

"Yes, Sybil, I'm sure that's it. Snape always wanted to be a seer and was madly jealous of your skills with the inner eye." Flitwick, who had been listening, covered his laugh with a cough. Professor Sinistra, who was on Trelawney's other side, snickered.

Trelawney looked hurt. "You never did believe. But you watch: pain will be coming your way if you stay with Snape."

"Just like all ten thousand horrible deaths you predicted for Harry?" Hermione felt bad as soon as she said it. "I'm sorry Sybil; that was unkind."

Sybil glared at her. "Just you wait." She then began to eat quickly, leaving a few moments later.

_Well, this is going bloody marvellous. _She rubbed her temples.

"So, how was last night?" Flitwick looked curious. Hermione noticed that all the other teachers looked her way as soon as he spoke. _Anything I say will be around the school in a matter of seconds._

"Better than anyone, myself included, expected. He made me a lemon tart."

"Snape cooks?" Flitwick appeared to be astounded by the idea.

"Apparently. He even knows how to carve a chicken."

"What's so hard about carving a chicken?" Poppy Pomfrey asked.

"With a knife."

"Oh. I usually rip them to shreds if I try like that."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "So does Harry, and for that matter anyone else I've seen try in the magical world."

"Well, he always made his own potions ingredients," Poppy mused, "so he would have to be good with a knife."

Slughorn took that moment to add to the conversation. "You should have seen him in potions class. Knife skills… You couldn't imagine. If the recipe wanted each piece of something a .04 centimetre hexagon, his would all be perfect and identical. And after class he and Lily would come up and ask me if it really needed to be a hexagon, wouldn't pentagons work better. Those two…"

Hermione decided to settle her curiosity; it had been bothering her for years. "Did you know Harry was using Snape's old Potions book?"

Slughorn looked surprised that she'd ask. "Of course! Who do you think gave it to me for him to use? You don't really think that book was just left sitting about in the back cupboard? Although it was as much Lily's book as his. I thought that was why he gave it to me to give to Harry. Something to link the two of them together."

Hermione stood up, took her plate, and walked over to Slughorn. She cleared a space and sat next to him. "What was Snape like when he was a student?"

Slughorn stayed quiet thinking for a moment. "He was very smart. He was a good flyer, played chaser on our Quiddich team. One of the worst Care of Magical Creatures students anyone had ever seen. I think most of the creatures could tell he saw them as potions ingredients. Besides Lily, I don't remember him having much in the way of friends. Not to say he didn't have a group of Slytherins he hung out with, but he wasn't nearly as comfortable, as close, to them." He looked up. Minerva McGonagall was glaring at him. "Come now, Minerva, I'm not telling tales out of school, nor am I breaking the rule about talking to a student about another teacher."

Minerva gestured elegantly to the dining room; several students were starting at the head table and listening intently. Slughorn looked chagrined.

He lowered his voice and continued. "Severus may not be the most famous member of our house, but I'm willing to say he was the greatest. He did everything we honour. He did an insanely dangerous job, and he did it extremely well. Besides Dumbledore and Harry he was the most important member of the Order. We value skill, cunning, ambition. He was all of those things, with more bravery than is often seen amongst us as well.

"Severus could have sat out the war. He could have made potions and spent the years comfortably in a lab, safely getting rich. But he had more drive than that. He could have been a Death Eater. I understand that once Lucius and Bellatrix lost favour, he was the Dark Lord's right hand man. He could have kept that position, and eventually been given control of Britain when the Dark Lord decided to expand into Europe. But he was too moral for that. Whatever else he is, and prickly is one of the words that spring to mind, he is a good man. A better man than most of us, and a much better man than most of your Gryffindor colleagues will give him credit for."

Hermione thought about it. "No, we didn't give him much credit, did we?" She quickly made her excuses and left the Great Hall for her office. She needed to write Severus, to apologize for barging in on him. She needed to start treating him like he deserved to be treated.

She sat with a quill in hand. They hadn't valued Snape. Beyond their distaste, they didn't even really notice him. How many times does a man have to save your life before you value him? She had been so wrapped up in the death of Sirius and the war being flushed into the open that it had barely occurred to her that Snape had saved them from death at the Ministry. He had told her and Ginny to look after Flitwick, keeping them out of much of the fighting when Draco got his cronies into Hogwarts. Not as clear cut as the time at the Ministry, but definitely a protective gesture. _If any other professor had done that we would have loved him. Sirius and Lupin did less, and we adored them._ She began to write.

_Severus,_

_I should have behaved differently last night. It was rude of me to barge into your home. And ruder yet to demand your explanation. Your past is your own, and I have no right to it. Please forgive my impudence._

_Hermione_


	17. In Which Hermione Does Rounds

Chapter 17: In Which Hermione Wanders Around the Castle with Her Thoughts

Wandering about the quite halls of Hogwarts, Hermione thought about the last twenty-four hours. First and foremost: Snape and Lily.

She hadn't had the time to process her thoughts about that, yet. It was certainly a tragedy. She had been on the verge of crying when he got to the point of the story where he was about to die. His attitude toward them and the rest of the world made more sense now. She had lived the last seven years with grief as a companion, how hard would it be to walk with grief and failure?

_How hard would that be to imagine? You spent the year after Ron died searching the world for wandless magic, and the year after that studying it because of your deep intellectual curiosity. It had nothing to do with watching him die, helpless to do anything about it because your wand had been stolen. No, not at all. No deep seated feelings of failure there. Yeah, and Filch will come to the next Christmas Ball in a tutu!_

She thought about her time looking for a way to make sure it never happened again. A way to make failure into something else, and if that was impossible, then a way to make sure that failure never happened again. She had been lucky; she had parents and friends who understood her demons, and were willing to do anything to help her try to find a way to heal them. She finally learned about an American witch that had spent some time in Britain a few years back. An introduction from a friend of a friend had gotten her to the Watcher's Council in Cleveland, and there she had learned how to never fear the loss of her wand again.

And now she was passing that skill on. Her seventh years who could handle the work were very promising. Many of them were better at wandless magic than she was. Some of them would be heading to the States to learn more. _At least they were as of a few weeks ago. I need to talk to Amber, Dean, and Rose, see what they're going to do now that the law passed._

She continued along the now silent corridors. It was good that he had loved someone before. What would she have been looking at had he never loved anyone? _Can I compete with a ghost? Will I have to? Oh come on, like Ron isn't looking over your shoulder. And probably doing bloody cartwheels in his grave because of this._

He would have hated this. He never trusted Snape and probably still wouldn't. She remembered Slughorn's words, "... a much better man than most of your Gryffindor colleagues gave him credit for." Would Slughorn still think that if he had known Snape's real motivations? They probably would have made Ron think better of him; if he could have gotten over his scorn. Big if.

Another silent corridor. The school was quiet tonight. Granted, Monday night was usually not a big night for sneaking about. That's why only one professor was on per shift. Her mind wandered around, as she looked at the familiar paintings. Giggling and whispering came from behind a suit of armour ahead. That snapped her mind back to the present. She got her wand out and prepared what she wanted to do.

"Aguamente!" Cold water came splashing down on the semi-naked, whispering lovers. "Break it up. Ten points from Ravenclaw and ten points from Hufflepuff. Back to your dorms." They hustled off, muttering quietly, rearranging their robes.

She watched them walk off and began to think about the other major aspect of last night. She had kissed Snape. She had let his tongue touch her. She had held his body next to hers. And she had liked it. It was his thumb tracing her lip before the actual kiss. There was an unhurried gentleness to it that she had never experience before. That action had set the tone for a kiss unlike any she'd ever had. _More relaxed? Less immediate? More kindness and less lust._ Of course, it wasn't like she had had a lot of kisses to compare it to. Victor's kiss had the sweet fumblyness of the first time. Ron's were always stolen moments of blessed peace between battles. Xander, also sweet, but a reminder that she wasn't over Ron yet. She had finished that one by crying on him, and hadn't let another man near her in the five years since.

_Well, I didn't spend last night crying on him, wishing I had died with Ron. That's a step in the right direction._

_No you spent last night listening to him talk about the woman he wished he had died with, followed by breakfast and wondering if he usually sleeps naked, or if you just happened to barge in on him at exactly the right time. _Naked Snape. Naked Severus. There were two words that had literally never appeared in her mind at the same time before last night. But naked he had been, and she had certainly gotten an eyeful. The way he had sprung for his wand was impressive. No false concerns about modesty, no fumbling moves, just, perfect, deadly, grace. Had she not summoned it to her as soon as she opened the door, before her light spell, he would have had time to get a hex off at her. Dead asleep to fighting took talent, and too many years of fear. _Should have woken him differently._

She went down the staircase to the second floor, feet automatically skipping the missing stairs. Her mind was on his body, the tension in his muscles as his sprang for his wand, the further tightening upon realizing the wand was no longer within his reach, and the defeated slump when he heard her speak Lily's name. She had seen the scar from his dark mark on his arm as he reached for his wand, and how the rest of the night he had carefully kept his arm turned towards himself to shield it from her gaze. He had wrapped the blanket around his waist like a towel, leaving his chest and arms bare. She had liked his arms and shoulders, nicely muscled without being overwhelming. His chest had very little hair. As for the rest of him… she smiled at the thought.

It was during that thought that Professor Sinistra tapped Hermione on the back. Hermione jumped three inches into the air with a small gasp.

Sinistra stepped back. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."

"I was woolgathering. It's a good thing you got my attention; I would have walked right by you otherwise."

"Then it's also a good thing that I'm here to relieve you. We can't have you wandering about in a fog, strolling by the dallying students."

"Yes, it is. I'm exhausted, and right now nothing sounds better than a long sleep." Sinistra nodded to Hermione, who went home to do just that.

That action had set the tone for a kiss unlike any she'd ever had.


	18. In Which Snape Visits His Ward

Chapter 18: In Which Snape Visits His Ward

An owl arrived at Snape's home. He took the scroll off of it and quickly read it. A smile crept onto his face. It was a very Hermione gesture, bold and brash, followed by regret for trampled toes.

He quickly wrote his response.

_H,_

_I should not have lied. We are even._

_S_

_Will I see you soon?_

He looked at his clock and stood. It was time to go. He walked to his floo, grabbed the powder, and spoke the words.

A moment later, he was standing in the front room of an ancient villa overlooking the Mediterranean. He had once asked Lucius how old it was, and the best guess he could give was 2200 years. It was the first Malfoy estate, from time when this land was Roman Gaul. Draco had decided that this would be an apt place to move, after deciding that Wizarding Britain was no longer a suitable residence.

It was one of the great ironies of the last few years that Snape had been made the trustee of the Malfoy wealth. Lucius and Narcissa did not want their son to get control of the family fortune until he was at least thirty, so they had named their old, true friend Severus Snape to make sure the money was well handled until he had reached said age.

Lucius Malfoy had died last year in Azkaban, and immediately upon his death Draco tried to get his will overturned. His main reason was that he had been successfully managing the Malfoy fortune since his father was imprisoned and his mother died. Secondarily, Snape was not the old, true friend his parents had thought he was. Unfortunately for Draco, the Wizengamot did not consider being a traitor to the Death Eaters sufficient reason to overturn Lucius' will. They used the specious argument that Lucius could have changed it had he seen fit to do so. It was common knowledge that Lucius had gone insane shortly after Bellatrix admitted to using the Imperius Curse to make Narcissa destroy the Ministry of Magic, so Draco could only assume that the Wizengamot was out to make his life as annoying as possible. Personally, Severus thought he was right.

Since that time, Snape had seen him on the fourth Monday of each month. Their visits now had a ritual quality to them. Draco handed over his portfolio, listing how each of his holdings had performed the month before, and a list of what other opportunities he would like to take advantage of, and how much he would like to do it with. Snape looked over the portfolio, and wrote him a cheque. Occasionally he would ask if he could piggyback onto one of Draco's investment choices. Draco usually grunted in ascent. Ten minutes would pass and they would be done for another month.

This time, as Snape was handing over the check, Draco asked, "Will you be moving?"

"Pardon?" Snape gave Draco a questioning look.

"I still get the Prophet. Will you be moving to avoid the Marriage Law? The reason I ask is that your flat in London is in a good neighborhood, and if you are selling, I would like to buy."

"You want to move back to London?" Severus couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Gods, no! The next Malfoy in London will probably be my grandson. As I said, it's a good neighborhood, and I see it as a decent investment property. There are very few places for travelling Wizards to stay in London; your flat would make a good place."

Draco had a good point. He should think about renting it when he wasn't using it. Or selling it, he'd have much less use for it in the future. "I do not intend to move."

Draco looked curious. "You found someone to marry you?" He didn't bother to keep the insult out of his voice.

Snape quirked his lip in a manner that could be called a smile. "Possibly, we have not yet spoken on the specifics."

"Is she some sixteen-year-old who will come of age in the next few months? She obviously didn't go to school while you were teaching." Draco sneered at Snape.

"My asking price for the London flat just went up fifty thousand pounds."

"You said you weren't moving."

"I didn't say I was keeping the flat. Since I used it primarily as a place to meet Muggle women, I will have less need for it in the near future."

"Who on earth would be willing to marry you?"

"Seventy thousand."

"How much do you want for it?" Draco stopped sneering. Snape knew Draco wanted to keep on belittling him, but he also wanted the flat, and he didn't want to pay so much for it he couldn't recoup the loss in less than three years.

Snape named his price.

Draco whistled softly. "You really have been reading the reports I send you."

"I know how much you make on similar properties in Paris, Oslo, and Istanbul. Besides, I may have to come up with a wedding present grand enough to overcome more than a few reservations. Not the least of which are those of my prospective in-laws. God only knows what kind of bride price they may ask. That sum for the flat will make sure that I am flush with cash, and you will still make a tidy profit."

"No doubt. Who is she?"

"I want the money in my account first." Draco raised an eyebrow and then summoned a House Elf. In a matter of minutes the confirmation came back from Gringotts. The money and deed had changed hands.

"Hermione Granger."

Draco fainted dead away. "Same time next month?" Severus smiled as he walked past the unconscious figure on the floor.


	19. In Which We Learn Wandless Magic

Chapter 19: In Which We Learn A Little Wandless Magic

A small tawny owl landed next to Snape while he had breakfast in his garden. It was early Tuesday morning, and he was just beginning to organize his mind around what he wanted to do today. His task was to get oak leaf oil into a form where it could be added to Murtlap Essence without exploding and then see how the resultant combination changed the time retarding properties of his base potion.

The little owl butted her head against his arm; he detached her scroll and offered her a strawberry.

_Severus,_

_My wandless magic class will be starting their last topic tomorrow. If you would like to see how to create fire out of nothing, please be out on the Quiddich Pitch tomorrow morning at eight._

_Hermione_

_P.S. If you'd like to stick around for a bit of morning tea afterward, I'd be happy for the company. _

He sent back a quick letter, and then promptly forgot all about it until ten hours later when he sat down to eat ravenously before collapsing into an exhausted sleep. Time delay potions danced in his head.

The next morning he debated about what to wear. He still owned his professorial robes, but he was no longer a professor. He could have put on his Headmaster's robes as well, but that was just asking to be hexed. Probably by McGonagall, but some of the more skittish seventh years might cast before their brains got the better of them. He had to have some sort of robes. Slacks and a jumper would be too downscale for the Hogwarts' dress code. Finally, he grabbed his plain, black work robes. If he kept them unfastened, his slacks and jumper would be visible, and hopefully that would look different enough so as not to automatically trigger memories of the Greasy Git.

He was almost out the door when he realized Lily hadn't been there to help with his clothes.

_I'm still here. But you'll need me less and less as time goes by. _Her voice echoed in his head.

"Don't leave me yet," he said as he walked out the door.

_No, not yet._

He apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. They opened for him. They recognized a former professor and headmaster and had no misgiving about allowing him to enter. _If only the rest of today will be so easy._ Seven years ago, he jumped out of a window in the castle, and at that point he had no intention of ever returning. Strange that once again he'd be here.

And now he was walking through the grounds, around the castle, to the Quiddich Pitch. It was a lovely day to be outside. Cool, bright, and splendid. He almost wished he had brought a broom. It would be a great day to get into the air.

As he strode to the pitch, he saw that Hermione was already there. His pace increased. She saw him and waved in greeting. He waved back.

"How does it feel to be back?" she asked him when he finally reached her.

"Strange. I never expected to set foot here again. So, when do the little buggers get here?"

She glanced at the sun, "A moment or two I would think. They usually arrive in one big group. They're very eager students. This is almost an extra-curricular club. They get no grades and no credit. There's no N.E.W.T. to take next week. It's all for the love of magic." Her gaze shifted from him to the far side of the pitch. "Ahhh… Here they come."

A knot of seven students walked toward Hermione. They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw her companion.

"Mr Snape will be joining us for class today. He too has an interest in wandless magic."

Severus heard the whispered, "He's got an interest in the professor," but decided to let it pass.

"Gather 'round, all of you." The seven students made a semi-circle around Hermione. Snape stood a few paces behind them and far enough to the left to have a clear line of view. "Now, we're going to begin our last section of this class. Fire!" And with that a small ball of fire erupted five inches above Hermione's hand. One of her students reached a hand forward. "No Dillon, don't try to touch it; this is real fire, and it will burn you.

"As you all know, wandless magic is all about imagination and will. We've created light in this class, and we've created heat, now it's time to put these together with motion to create fire. I've set up little wads of cotton wool about the pitch, since I'm sure some of you will find this easier to do with a physical fuel source to start."

Dean raised his hand, "Won't the oxygen in the air work as a fuel source?"

"Yes Dean, it does. For those of you who had some Muggle schooling, it may be easier to work the spell by drawing together a ball of oxygen and hydrogen, and then igniting that. The tricky bit on that version of the spell is keeping the flame going. For the rest of you, work on seeing, feeling, and hearing the fire burn.

"Now, watch carefully as I do the spell. I learned enough Muggle science that I use the oxygen-hydrogen method. Watch how I use the magic." Hermione's eyes closed as she concentrated. "I'm using the basic teleportation we began with to move the oxygen into a ball over my hand."

Snape could not see the gases that Hermione spoke of, but he could sense the magic swirling around and forming into a ball.

Hermione continued, "When I have a good flow of fuel for the fire, and have my shields set to keep it in the form I want, I add the spark." The ball lit into flame. "I can leave it hovering there or toss it about using the teleportation spells we did earlier." She sent the ball flying toward one of the Quiddich hoops, where it made a perfect goal before burning out.

"Ten points to the house of any other student who can get a goal."

Snape watched her walk among the students as they worked on creating their balls of fire. He wished he had been to an earlier class. He could feel the magic well enough to have an idea of what they were doing, but not how. The feel of the magic was familiar, but he could not place the last time he had felt something like it.

He saw the first student light her fireball. She squealed with glee and sent it flying through the goal post. "Ten points to Ravenclaw. Good work, Amber!" Her students looked like they were having fun. Two were giggling as they worked the spell, not surprisingly they did not produce any balls of flame. Hermione walked by them. "More of your mind on the fire, please." They quieted and began to focus on the space above their hands.

One of the boys was concentrating so hard he looked ready to burst a blood vessel. Hermione went to him, "Relax, Allan. Making your blood boil will not make the air ignite. Here, put your hand on mine and feel what I do." Snape was stunned; she was allowing a student to touch her. Allan had his hand on hers, his eyes closed, and it did look like he was trying to feel what she was doing with the magic. Or maybe he was just enjoying his hand on her. Either way he calmed down, and lit his own fireball a few moments later.

By the end of the hour four of the seven had successfully set fire to the air. "Remember, keep practicing. I'll see you on Friday. We'll spend some more time on lighting the fires; then we'll work on shaping them."

She walked over to him. "What did you think?"

"Very impressive. Your students look like they really enjoy this class."

"Teenagers and fire, it's a natural combination. Most of them were not nearly as happy when we started out back in September and we began working on feeling the magic, and the theory behind how the will can shape the world."

"Will you show me how to do it? During the summer holidays?"

"You'll allow me to teach you?" Hermione looked taken aback at the reversal of roles.

"I can't promise I won't get frustrated and snarky on occasion, but I will try my best to make it a pleasant experience for both of us." As they walked off the pitch he followed her lead.

"So, are you up for a bit of tea? I have another class at 9:15, but if you'd like to wait, I'll be free again by 10:00."

"I have time. Where is your office? It's such a nice day, I was thinking of just walking about the grounds a bit."


	20. In Which Snape's Past and Future Collide

Chapter 20: In Which Snape's Past and Future Collide

Snape continued to stroll about, looking at the gardens and wondering if they were always this green. He walked over to what had once been a lone mausoleum, but was now a small graveyard. Professor Sprout was buried here along with several of the students who had died defending the school. He rested a hand on Dumbledore's grave.

He spoke with a low voice, more tired than angry. "You used me and my love. You should have let me die with her. If you had stayed out of it, I would have lain down and followed her. But I kept going, because, as you said, we needed to protect her beloved son. I had never felt as betrayed as I did that day you told me we weren't actually trying to save Harry. I hated you for that. You killed me that day, or worse, killed my hope. You could have at least told me that you didn't expect him to stay dead. But no, that would have required telling more than the absolute minimum amount of information necessary to get the job done.

"It's been almost eight years since I killed you. Almost nine since you left me a walking corpse. Those were the worst years of my life. The worst of many people's lives. But unlike most of the rest, I can blame my misery almost entirely on you." He paused for a few moments, images of his last two years at Hogwarts flashing through his mind. "But it's starting to fade. I've been thinking about forgiveness this last year or so, and thinking about moving on this last week, and I think it's time I make my peace with you."

He sat quietly next to the stone and wondered what the Old Bat would have to say to him. _He'd offer me a fucking lemon drop and say something about how proud he'd be. _

"Severus." He jerked upright when he heard her voice. _Lovely, a furious Minerva just to make everything that much better._ He looked her in the eye as she came closer. _She doesn't think I should be here, let alone be allowed to touch this stone._

"Minerva."

"May I have a moment of your time?"

"Certainly." The formal politeness was icy as Norway in December and sharp as a dragon's tooth. He followed McGonagall to her office. Her body language was stiff and prickly, much like the thistle that graced the band of her hat. His body language began to change also, the relaxed calm from Hermione's class and his time with Dumbledore switched into a defensive posture.

Once inside her office, he noticed something was missing, specifically, the portrait of him. Where his portrait should have been was a seascape.

"I was under the impression that all of the former Headmaster's portraits hung in this office."

He looked into her eyes as she answered, "That is correct, but I'm sure you can deduct what all of the other Headmasters have in common that you do not." He nodded; yes, all of the others were dead. "In that you are still alive, it did not seem fitting to hang an image of you in what is effectively a graveyard."

"Minerva, you must remember, I can tell when you lie to me."

She looked flushed for a moment. "As you know it is policy to not allow visitors to roam about the school unaccompanied..."

"As I also know, that is not the reason you wished to see me. So many years later, and yet you are still angry at me for not telling you. Still angry at the Order for not trusting you with any of the important information. Still angry that Dumbledore did not think you were good enough to be involved in the biggest event of the last twenty years."

She was holding her temper through immense force of will. He could see that if he kept going she would hex him. He decided to change track. "We all took our orders from Dumbledore. It is not my fault that Dumbledore was not the man you wanted him to be, and it is not my fault that he did not think as highly of you as you would have wished. But it is my fault that I did not tell you what was going on when I was the Headmaster, but my reason should be obvious. Had you known, and had you been interrogated, it would have been the end of everything. Any chance we had of winning depended on me."

She glared at him. "You let Professor Burbage die."

"Yes, I did! I sat and watched her tortured and killed, I ignored her pleas for help, and I would not change a moment of it." Though that was not entirely true, he would have very happily not been involved in the whole thing. But he had been, and he was sure he had made the right choice. "If memory serves you are a fan of the game of chess, so I will put this in chess terms. I was the only piece on the board that could not be replaced. Even Harry was not irreplaceable. As you saw, Neville dispatched the last Horcrux. As the only piece that could not be replaced, I was the piece most in need of protection. I was so well protected that Dumbledore told no one, not Harry, not you, not Moody, of my real purpose. Dumbledore had me kill him to make sure everyone in the Order was convinced of my loyalty to the Death Eaters. In effect, my position was that of King. Harry, the most important of the active pieces, was the Queen. Dumbledore was the man playing the game. I'm sorry you were a pawn, but it was neither my fault nor my decision.

"If I had _tried_ to save Professor Burbage because, as I'm sure you know, I could not have actually saved her; I would have been tortured for hours and then killed, probably in an extremely messy and painful way. And then, Voldemort would have won. I would not have been able to take over Hogwarts. Amycus would have done that. Do I need to remind you of his gentle teaching methods? Do I need to point out how many students would have been outright killed if he had been named Headmaster? And, had I been dead, Harry would not have gotten the sword or the information he needed. He'd be dead by now, or still floundering about looking for the Horcruxes, trying to find a way to destroy them.

"If it is any consolation, I do not think the Order or Hogwarts was harmed by your lack of information. Other than satisfying your curiosity, I do not see what you could have improved by knowing about my real allegiances."

She scowled at him, but held her tongue.

"Is that all you wished to see me about?"

"As if you need to ask."

"You are correct, I do not need to ask, but it is polite."

"You may go Severus. Please do not disturb the students by wandering about too freely. Some of them will still try to hex you, and that would be unfortunate."

"For them, not me." The day a student got off a successful hex against him was the day they needed to put him on his funeral pyre, breathing or not.

He walked out of her office and headed to Hermione's. He could feel a headache beginning and the feeling of peace at Dumbledore's grave had gone sour. Class was in session, so the halls were deserted. Or at least as close as they ever came in Hogwarts. The portraits stared at him, some whispering to each other as he passed.

"Snotty, snively, Snapey, snotty, sniv…"

This encounter he had prepared for. He began casting before he had fully turned. Snape walked over to Peeves, now hanging suspended, immobile, and silent.

"If we ever meet again, you are to silently turn and go the other way. Otherwise I will let the entire school know how to cast this charm. It will wear off in about two hours. Use that time to think on what you will do when next we meet." He turned, robes flaring, and stormed towards Hermione's office.

_What was I thinking coming back here? I'm as welcome here as Dragon Pox. No, I'm less welcome here than Dragon Pox, most of the students would welcome the respite from classes. If I marry Hermione, they'll expect me to show up at social functions. The Graduation Ball, the Pre-Year Feast, and who knows what other ones they have now. Probably some sort of Yule thing. They'll start to expect me to show up for Battle of Hogwarts Day, and all the crap that goes along with it. The Ministry will probably want to make a big deal out of the wedding. Heroes United, or some shit. _He remembered the fanfare when Harry and Ginny had married. The Ministry had made sure the Prophet had run articles about both of them, their heroism, how they had hunted the Horcruxes together, and the huge number of awards they had both received. For something like a week he had taken one look at the front page, saw their smiling faces, and promptly tossed the damn thing out. _Hell, we'd be an even bigger spectacle._ "_The Man who Voldemort Trusted and Harry Potter's Best Friend: Love at Last!" writes Rita Skeeter. God, just kill me now! _

He had reached Hermione's office, and saw he had ten minutes before she would be back. The door was slightly ajar, so he decided to wait inside. Her office was quite a bit like her home, clean lines, muted colours, fewer books than he had expected. There were pictures on her desk, a Muggle one of her with two older adults, probably her parents. A magical picture of her hugging Ron and Harry, they were all dressed up, and looked happy, obviously from sometime before they left for the Horcrux hunt, sat next to the shot with her parents. He picked up the one on the other side of her desk. She was surrounded by a sea of Weasleys. _There must be thirty of them! If I marry her, I'll have bound myself to them as well. _He tried to imagine himself at a Weasley family gathering. Baby Weasleys recoiled in fear while the adults scowled at him and gave Hermione a cold shoulder for bringing him along. _Fucking excellent!_

He looked at the picture of her parents. _They'll take one look at me, decide Hermione can do better, and forbid the match. _

"I see you found my family." Hermione walked in. "That was taken two years ago. Percy has another wife. Charlie got married about six months after that shot was taken. George and Angelina married Deidre last year, and there are three more babies now."

"We can't do this. You're lovely, and I've been having a great time with you. But I can't…"

"Lay down." Snape blinked hard. Hermione was in a surprisingly good mood for someone who was being broken up with.

"Lay down?"

"Yes, on the floor. Wandless magic lesson number one."

"Did you not hear what I said?"

"Yes, I heard it. Lay down." Hermione closed the door to her office.

"It's not just…"

"Shhh… Lay down."

He felt silly settling himself on the rug in front of her sofa.

"Scoot down a bit so I can sit at your head." He obeyed while she shucked her robe and sat cross legged at his head.

"There are two components to wandless magic: will and imagination. Both of these require observation. I walked into my office, and saw you standing at my desk. You were glaring at the photo of the Weasleys, shoulders hunched up. Your body posture told me that you were feeling rather defensive." She placed her fingers on his temples and rubbed gently.

"I thus assumed that it just occurred to you that should we get married, you'll find yourself a member of the Weasley family, and that spending afternoons surrounded by a herd of Gryffindors was causing you distress. Your defensive posture told me that not only was your own dislike in play, but that you are assuming a less than warm welcome." She slid her fingers into his hair, moving them in small circles. His face indicated that she had guessed correctly.

"So, I have now observed the problem, I have used my imagination to see the extent of the problem, the next move is the implementation of will."

His eyes went wide.

"No, I am not going to brain wash you to make forget your concerns. They're legitimate concerns we need to talk about.

"This is much simpler. When you feel stressed, your body releases a chemical that makes your muscles tense, ready to run or attack. Since fleeing the castle or punching the picture are not appropriate responses, your body holds onto that tension. I'm going to help your body metabolize that chemical, and then your muscles will relax. Then we can have some tea and talk rationally." He looked sceptical, but did not move from her hands.

She moved her fingers from his temples to the back of his head, where it met his neck. He felt the magic, and then felt something incredible: it was like being massaged in a warm bath while drinking fine brandy. He had never been so relaxed in his life. He opened his eyes slowly and saw her smiling down at him.

"Ready to talk?" she asked.

"I'll marry you for that alone."

She stood up and moved to the sofa. He lay on the floor with a dopy smile on his face. "That's quite a skill."

"It certainly got the attention of my students. Once I taught them that, they were hooked. It's really just the first level of healing magic. Get the person calm, and many of the complaints go away or heal themselves."

He slowly sat up, yawned, and moved to the sofa next to Hermione. She handed him a cup of tea and a small plate with a few nibbles on it.

He sipped the tea, and she said, "The way I see it, we can keep going with this, or we can be scared off by each other's past."

"It's not your past. I'm sure I can deal with your ghosts if you can deal with mine. It's the very large group of people who make up a huge deal of your present and future. It's not just the Weasleys; it's this school, and the fact that we'll be a spectacle. We'll have the Prophet watching us. The Ministry will want to make a big deal about us getting married. Heroes of Vold War II, Order of Merlin Winners, and all that. And the Weasleys… And your parents… They must want better for you than a washed-up, old ex-spy."

"You are not a washed-up ex-spy. You are the most fun I've had with a man in the last seven years. And, I'm looking forward to seeing what else we can get up to."

"I've been enjoying your company as well, but…"

"The Ministry and the Prophet I can handle. The Head of the Department of Rebirth is eager to keep me on his good side. It might have something to do with the fact that we all get together on the first Sunday of every month. I've also got a good pile of dirt on Rita Skeeter, enough at least to make sure she isn't the one writing about us. As for my parents, they don't know you from Adam, what objection could they have? And the Weasleys, well, if I could get over six years of the company of the Greasy Git, I imagine they can as well. Especially if _you_ show up. Plus, at this point, more than half of the Weasleys have never met you, or only knew you from afar. Actually, at this point, almost half of the Weasleys are under the age of six, and really couldn't care less about who their Aunt Hermione is dating."

"And your co-workers?"

"I would certainly enjoy having you as an escort to the formal functions, but I'll never make you attend anything here. I know this is not a bastion of good memories for you. That's part of the reason we met for class outside, I thought it would be a... neutral place for you. The same thing goes with the Weasleys. I'll always let you know when there will be gatherings, and give you the option of attending, but I will never nag, beg, or bother you about attending."

"You're very blithe about going stag to all of your family and work gatherings."

"I've been doing it for seven years; it hasn't hurt me so far. Plus I've got experience with this. My mother and father love each other very much and cannot stand each other's families. Christmas Eve with the Dad and the Grangers, Christmas Day with the Mom and the Hornes, then reverse the next year. It seems to me that as long as everyone acts like a grown-up, this isn't a recipe for disaster."

Severus looked thoughtful. "I wish we had done it that way in my family. Instead we got huge screaming matches about how my father ruined my mother's life and vice versa. The Princes glaring daggers at my father for being a Muggle. Meanwhile, the Snapes thought my mother and I were some sort of unwholesome freaks."

Hermione wasn't sure how to respond to that. She took his hand and held it. He lifted both of their hands, and kissed the back of hers. "It's been a long time since then. My parents divorced in 1973. Both of them were quite a bit happier after that. By the time my father died in '78, and my mother in '87 I was on good terms with them. I'm not sure why they married, maybe they loved each other once, but by the time I was able to remember them, they were doing all they could to make the other miserable."

They sat quietly for a while. Hermione looked at him; touched his face. "I can't say you and I will always have an easy road, but I've gotten to the point in my life where I've dealt with enough pain. I'm no longer in the business of causing unnecessary hardness in anyone's life."

Snape thought about what he said at Dumbledore's grave. Forgiveness, moving on, making peace. "When is the next Weasley Family gathering?"


	21. In Which Hermione Lunches With Harry

Chapter 21: In Which Hermione Lunches With Harry

"…and I invited him to our next gathering at the Burrow," Hermione said between bites of lunch.

Harry winced. "So soon? I had been hoping for a few more Snape-free months."

"I told him he never had to attend any family gatherings he didn't want to. Or work related ones."

"Well, that's a start. Maybe he'll stay home."

"Harry…" Hermione paused, looking thoughtful. "How many times did Severus save your life?"

"Ummm…" He stopped eating, put his fork down, and turned to look at her. "Hermione, I know he's saved me, and you, and Ginny, and all of us. I rationally know that he's one of the good guys. I know he didn't kill Sirius. I know he didn't murder Dumbledore. I know all of these things, but when I think of him…" His eyes shifted from her to a point far away. Hermione guessed he was seeing one of his less fun encounters with Snape. "When I think of him, I see the man who hated me on first sight. Act or not, it felt real. He looked at me with such loathing and scorn…

"I know I'm not on his top ten favourite people list. I know we eventually gave him some good reasons for his dislike, but not at first sight. Not ten minutes off the train.

"I can even accept that he's changed. I was listening to some of your Wandless Magic students talk about him joining you today. Obviously he wasn't doing his Greasy Git routine, or they would have mentioned it."

"What did they say?"

"Amber and Rose were giggling about how carefully he was watching you, and how much less scary he was. They think he has 'a thing' for you." Harry mimicked the voice of a teenage girl. Hermione laughed.

"Well, I certainly hope he has 'a thing' for me. I'll be more than a tad disappointed to find him lacking one." Her grin was wicked.

Harry winced again. "I really didn't need to know that."

"I spent how many hours listening to you talk about Ginny?"

He smiled innocently at her. "Three. We got married five minutes after she turned seventeen, and I have been a paragon of rectitude ever since. And if anyone says anything else, I will deny it." This time they both laughed.

"Look, I really want you to be happy. And I can see you've been cheerier than usual this last week. And we'll welcome him if he's what you want. You know that, right?" She nodded. "But it will take time. I mean, he's Snape."

"Does it help if I tell you he's a really good kisser?"

Harry choked on his drink. "Gods, no! Tell Ginny that stuff; I really don't want to think about you and Snape kissing." She was about to speak, the wicked gleam back in her eyes, but he cut her off. "Or you and Snape anything elsing. I do not need to know how he is making you happy, just that he is."

"Yes, Harry. He is making me happy. Happier than I've been in a long time."

"I'm really going to have to get used to Snape in the family." He sighed.

"It looks like it. But..." She flashed her left hand to him. "No ring yet, so nothing is carved in stone."

"Hell, he'll do something all sweet and romantic, and you'll fall in love, and next thing I know I'll be watching him play with the kids at my house. We'll have to stop mocking Slytherins." His voice was faux distressed.

"You shouldn't be mocking Slytherins anyway."

"I'll be stuck trying to find him Christmas presents…" His mournful tone increased.

"Ginny buys the presents."

"And I'll be the one talking him down from a ledge when you're eight months pregnant and it finally occurs to him that you're really going to have a kid and the whole world as he knows it is about to end." He sounded despairing. His eyes were smiling.

"Harry, you'll be talking me down from that ledge." Finally they both broke out laughing. Hermione was wiping tears away from her eyes when an owl landed with a letter for her.

"So soon? It must be 'a thing'," Harry said.

She playfully shoved him, and opened the note.

_H_

_Are you free Friday? Would you like to go dancing?_

_'S_

Harry read over her shoulder. "He calls you H? Must be the romance of the century."

"Well, Last of the Red Hot Lovers, what do you call Ginny?"

Harry blushed. "So... dancing? Snape dances. Huh…"

"Nice topic change. He told me that back when he was a new teacher Dumbledore made him teach ballroom dancing."

"Nooo… Merlin's beard, I thought he was bad in potions. Ballroom Dance. Can you imagine?"

She shook her head. "What I would have paid to see that…" She fumbled for a bit of parchment.

_S,_

_I'd love to. What kind of dance? _

_'H_

They broke off to go to their classes. That evening, when she returned to her office, she found another parchment.

_Hermione,_

_I believe the Muggles refer to it as 'clubbing.' There's a place I know with a good DJ and decent bands. They play an eclectic mix from the last thirty years. Would that suit you?_

_Severus_

She grabbed a piece of parchment and her pen.

_Severus,_

_Clubbing sounds lovely. It's been years. I think I have just the outfit though…_

_See you Friday,_

_Hermione_


	22. In Which We Apply Body Art

Chapter 22: In Which We Apply Body Art

Ginny rushed into Hermione's house. "Okay. Harry's got Molly. I just fed her, so I should have almost three free hours. Tell me all about it. What are you going to wear? Where are you going? I can't believe Snape dances."

Hermione smiled at her friend's excitement. "Calm down. Do you want a drink?" Ginny shook her head. "I don't know where we're going. I do know what I'm going to wear, but…well come up with me." She led Ginny to her room while filling her in on the good night kiss from Sunday and the letters that led up to today's date.

She pointed to two pieces of clothing on her bed. The top was a diamond shaped piece of hunter green silk. A fine silver chain attached to the top of the diamond and a larger chain connected the two points. Next to it was a pair of black leather pants. Low cut from the looks of it.

"You own leather pants?" Ginny's voice held a mix of surprise and admiration.

"Yes, I haven't worn them in five years…" Hermione gestured dismissively with her hands. "When I was in the States, I went dancing with the girls. One of them insisted that I'd look 'hot' in them. So I bought them. I wore them once. Danced with Xander, he seemed to agree about the hot thing, kissed him, and spent the night crying on his shoulder wishing I was still with Ron."

"With a history like that you want to wear them again?"

"You heard the 'hot' bit, right?"

"Go put them on, let me see." She could tell Ginny wasn't sure about this outfit.

A moment later Ginny was critically looking Hermione up and down. The pants were low rise and tight. The shirt, if it could be called that, was loose, allowing occasional glimpses of the sides of her breasts. "You're planning on having sex with him, then."

"Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I tend to think that if you don't want to have sex with the guy, you don't say yes to an invitation to spend the night gyrating against each other wearing skimpy clothing. It just seems kind of mean to get his hopes," she grinned, "and other things, up, if you don't intend to do anything about it."

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"I think so. It's funny, but talking with George helped to remind me how much I miss sex."

"What on earth did he say to you?" Ginny looked incredulous, then somewhat scandalized. "What did he do?"

"Nothing like that. He just reminded me very specifically that Ron would not have expected me to be celibate, and he certainly wouldn't have been on the shelf this long."

Ginny nodded as if to say, 'We've all been telling you that, glad it finally sunk in.' She gave the outfit another long appraising look. "In that case, I think it works. What do you need help with?"

"Body art. My whole back is naked, and I want something to spruce it up."

"Spruce it up?" Ginny was giggling.

"What would you call it?"

"Hell, I don't know. Turn around." She eyed Hermione's back. "Hair up or down?"

"Down."

"We've got the bottom third of your back to work with, then."

"I really liked the tattoo you designed for Harry. Something like that, but a bit more femme."

"He showed you my tattoo?"

"You're kidding, right? He showed everyone your tattoo. He thought it was the coolest bloody thing in the history of the universe."

"Good husband. It is the coolest bloody thing in the universe. What about his did you like best?"

"The knot work. It's very complex without being overly ornate." Ginny thought about what to do, looked at Hermione's back, and grabbed a piece of paper.

"How symbolic do you want to get?"

"What are you thinking?"

"A roughly triangle shaped knot, made of a red and gold serpent." She quickly sketched the idea.

"I like the idea, but I'm not sure how he is with tattooed snakes. He wore one for years, still has the scar in fact."

Ginny looked up quickly. "When did you see his Dark Mark?"

"Dinner," Hermione lied quickly. "His sleeve came open, and I saw it."

Ginny didn't look like she bought it, but decided to let it go when Hermione asked, "How about that shape, but instead of a snake, a green line and a gold line?"

"I can do that." She spent the next few minutes working on the sketch. "Well?"

Hermione looked at the artwork in front of her. Green and gold sinuously twined in a fist sized triangle. "It's lovely."

"You don't want this permanent, do you?"

"No, a day would be good, though."

"Turn around." Ginny spoke a few words, waved her wand over the sketch, and then did likewise over Hermione's back. It tickled a bit, and Hermione tried not squirm. In less than five minutes Hermione was looking at her now tattooed back in the mirror.

"It's perfect, Ginny."

"I'll say. If you want me to make it permanent, just come see me before it wears off. So tell me; when did you really see his Dark Mark? Is there a good story of a half-naked Snape you've been sitting on? There's no way his 'sleeve came open at dinner.'" Her eyes were warmly amused.

Hermione was very quiet for a moment, debating what to say. "I really can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't say anything about it. But he still has a scar, and he was very careful to keep it away from my view. I only saw it for a second. How about we pretend that I saw it tonight, and told you about it tomorrow?"

"Very curious. Less than two weeks with a spy and we've already got secrets. I won't pry, but you owe me a very juicy story for tomorrow."

"I promise, much vicarious goodness tomorrow."

"So, let's talk makeup and jewellery…"


	23. In Which Snape Prepares

Chapter 23: In Which Snape Prepares

By his nature, Snape was a tidy man, but as his mother pointed out to him in numerous teenage arguments, tidy and clean are not the same thing. It was with that in mind that he stopped working early Friday, and began to assess his home with an eye toward clean.

He started in his bedroom, looking at it critically.

"Laundry." He was relieved to hear her voice again.

He turned to look at Lily. "Laundry?"

"Yes, wash everything. Especially the bedding and towels. Your pillows could use some fluffing and airing as well. Open the windows, some air would do the whole room good." He moved to the windows while spelling the sheets into a bundle. They floated in the air behind him as he drew back the curtains and opened the windows. Warm summer air filled the room.

He walked towards his laundry room, bedding floating behind him. Several minutes later and the gentle sounds of swishing water arose from the room.

"Now what?" he asked Lily as he stepped back into his bedroom.

"Back to the bathroom. It needs to be clean and woman friendly."

"Woman friendly?" She rested her hand on his shoulder as they stood at the door of his bathroom. Lily then brushed past him to stand in the middle of the small room.

"You know the obvious ones: put the toilet seat down and hide the porn." She looked into the toilet, and shuddered. "Uggh. When was the last time you cleaned inside the toilet? I know, I know, you never have. Here's a hint, inside the bowl is supposed to be the same color as the outside of the bowl." He started using a scouring charm while she inspected the shower. His toiletries were neatly arranged on a shelf in a shower streaked with rust stains and soap scum.

"With the exception of the walls and the shower mats, you need to get some of those by the way, she won't want to stand in a puddle when she's in here, everything in this room should be shiny. If it's not shiny, it's not ready."

Snape continued cleaning while Lily gave his toiletries the once over. One bar of soap, one bottle of shampoo, and one tube of shaving lotion, all his own creations, sat in the shower next to his razor. "Hair conditioner and some sort of sponge. Once you have those and the shower mats, this room will be done."

Lily leaned against the sink while soap scum and rust stains vanished from the shower. She turned around, looking at the sink and the cup on the sink with a manky looking toothbrush sticking out of it. "Spoke too soon. You need new toothbrushes, get one for her as well."

A moment later Snape looked up from the mirror which his spell work was polishing little bits of toothpaste spittle off of. "Toothbrushes, bathmats, conditioner, and a sponge… anything else I need to get?"

She looked around the room. "I think that's it for in here. Bedroom time." She stepped back into the bedroom, and settled herself cross-legged on his bed. He began the dusting charm before she had time to speak.

"Good first choice. Besides that, I think this room is in good shape. It's tidy, and once you get the clean linens on the bed, you'll be all set."

After he finished the dusting, they walked downstairs to his kitchen. Because Snape actually enjoyed cooking, and demanded his tools be kept in fine shape, his kitchen was the cleanest room in the house. (Actually his lab was the cleanest room, but in that it was located in what appeared to be a shed in the back garden, it was not actually located in the house.) As soon as he got to the main floor, he performed the dusting charm again. Dust flew off of his bookshelves. He and Lily stood in his kitchen looking at the pantry.

"Are you all set for breakfast?"

"Bacon, eggs, bread for toast, butter, jam, strawberries and cream."

"Lovely. Coffee and tea?" He gave her a look that said, 'Of course, when do I not have coffee and tea?' while gesturing to the three types of coffee, and a shelf of teas, most his own blends.

They walked into his living/dining area where the dust had just vanished. "Open the windows again?" he asked.

She sniffed. "Yes. Fresh air is always a good thing." At that point the sound of the laundry drying itself went quiet. He, Lily, and the laundry floating behind him went back to his bedroom. As the sheets began to fit themselves back over his bed, he asked, "Should I get new sheets or towels?"

"She already knows you've got black and white sheets, so I wouldn't go get new ones. The towels are in good shape and they match your bath and the sheets. So stay with them, unless you can't find any bathmats that go. Eventually you'll probably want to add some more colours to your house, but by that point she'll probably want to be involved in picking them out.

An hour later, Snape was placing his new, black bathmats in his bathroom. Two toothbrushes sat in his toothbrush cup. He had gotten green and red on purpose. Every surface that should be shiny was. Conditioner was sitting next to his shampoo, and a natural sponge was on the other shelf in his shower.

His bedroom was aired out. His sheets were fresh and crisp. He had even brought an extra blanket for the bed in case she got cold during the night. While at the store he decided some candles would be in order, and had spent several moments debating scented versus unscented. He had gone with unscented, white pillars. They matched the décor, and there was no chance she wouldn't like the scent.

His home was ready.

Now it was time for him. The water felt wonderful, and he realized he actually liked not being afraid to touch the walls of the shower. He shaved carefully, making sure he didn't miss any bits.

It had been eight months since he last went dancing. It was his usual preferred form of getting to meet a woman, have a shag, and then go back to his life. Usually his next step was to get out of the shower, cast a glamour, and then get dressed. But that really wouldn't work for tonight. For one thing Hermione had already seen him naked, and was unlikely to have forgotten how he looked. For another she'd probably be more than a bit surprised if he showed up looking like Goran Visnjic's older, larger nosed, English, brother.

He walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. Lily sat on his bed. "There's one good thing about wearing your own face. No one knows it, so you won't have anyone recognize you and yell at you for never ringing again."

"There is that. On the downside, it's my face."

"It's a good face, Sev."

"Now who's lying?"

"No, I didn't say it was a handsome face, but it is a good one. It's unique. It's lived in. It's got character."

"Come on, it's not a bloody house."

She stood up and placed her hand on his cheek, her forehead against his. "It's not a handsome face, but Hermione could have a handsome face if she wanted one. It's a good face, a warm face, an expressive face, and the fact she wants that shows good taste on her part." She gestured to the clock. "Let's get you dressed and on your way."

Unlike Wednesday, when Snape was uncertain of what to wear, today he knew what he wanted. The pants were black denim. Standard jeans, with one slight modification, a wand pocket along the right leg side seam. His shirt was new, bought special for this night, a deep crimson button down. It took him less than a minute to get into his clothes. He was about to push his sleeves up when he realized that the really cool scar that the Muggle women all thought was so interesting might not be a selling point for Hermione.

He left his sleeves down and buttoned the shirt. Top two buttons undone. He reached for one of the two bottles on his dresser. As he opened it, the blend of sandalwood, lime, and a hint of oakmoss wafted through the room. He splashed some on.

His final preparation for the night was in the other bottle. He picked it up, drank, and winced slightly. He had yet to find a way to make the contraceptive potion taste good, but he had been working on it on and off for a few years now. With any luck he'd have it down by the time the law was lifted and more wizards were in the market for contraceptives.

"How do I look?"

"Great! Go out and have fun."

He walked downstairs to his floo, spoke her name, and was off.


	24. In Which Sparks Fly

Chapter 24: In Which Sparks Fly

As with any time he travelled by floo, the first few seconds in the new location were spent dizzy and bleary eyed. But as the room stopped spinning, his eyes landed on Hermione and popped. A small whistle escaped as he sucked in a breath.

She was wearing something he would have called a halter top, but he had never seen one with chains instead of straps. And it was in his colours! His eyes lingered on her midriff, enjoying her flat tummy and delicious navel, when he noticed the trousers were soft, supple leather. God, this woman might have well been reading his mind when it came to his ideas of sexy! Ideas of skipping going out, taking her into his arms, and snogging the daylights out of her danced in his mind.

"You look nice." Her voice reminded him that he hadn't spoken yet. _Stop ogling her like some horny teenager. Compliment her._

"You look wonderful."

Her smile was warm, and very clearly said she knew how he had been looking at her and appreciated the unspoken compliment. She walked over to him, and kissed him gently, only her lips touching him, pulling back when he placed his hands on her back.

"You're teasing me aren't you?" His voice was low and sexy.

"You're liking it aren't you?" She flashed her right eyebrow at him. He smiled back at her.

"Yes, I am."

"Good, because I intend to do quite a bit of it tonight."

"Is that a promise?"

"Oh yes." Her teeth nibbled her lower lip.

"Well then, I shall prepare to be teased. So, on a more practical note, do you eat sushi?"

"I never have before, but I'm willing to try."

"You mean the House Elves aren't serving it regularly at Hogwarts yet?"

"Amazingly enough, they have yet to put it on the menu. We have started to get some really lovely curries, though. Let me grab a jacket."

When she turned toward the closet he caught sight of her back. "Stop, don't move." He walked over to her, and knelt on the floor to get a better look. He had always loved Celtic knots and this one was a corker. Two bands, one green, the other gold, whorled around each other in an unending triangle.

She could feel him exhaling against the small of her back, Goose bumps rose in response. He stayed there, kneeling on the floor, staring at her back for what felt like a very long time, but was probably only a minute.

Finally he said, "That's gorgeous work. Who did it?"

"Ginny. This one isn't permanent. But she has done some that are. Ask Harry to show you his someday; it's amazing."

"Ginny does Celtic knots?"

"She does all sorts of drawing. A few years ago she learned how to transfer a sketch onto skin, since then she's done all sorts of decorative work. Many of the Weasleys now have wedding bands, and wedding tattoos."

He stood up, looking thoughtful, and offered her his hand. "Well, shall we go?"

She nodded, and looked a little surprised as he pulled her flush to his chest while he cast the apparate spell. Having her so close and warm and soft against him made the dizzy squeezing of the spell almost pleasant. She stayed close a few seconds longer than were strictly necessary after the spell ended, and he enjoyed the sensation immensely. She looked up at him, lips in perfect kissing position, and as he began to lower his head towards hers, she pulled away, and smiled at him.

"Dinner then?"

He smiled back, realizing this was part of the teasing. "Certainly." Severus put his hand against her low back, and led her out of the alley to a tidy storefront.

The restaurant was tiny. A small bar that could seat maybe ten, maybe twelve people, with two Asian men standing behind it. Snape greeted the men, and pulled out a chair for Hermione. Once settled, Snape said something she didn't catch to the man closest to him.

"What was that?"

"I told him to pick the menu."

"You speak Japanese?"

He laughed. "I know how to tell him to pick the menu and to say thank you. I've been busy over the last seven years, but learning Japanese wasn't on the list."

A woman placed a small earthenware jug with two tiny cups between them. Hermione looked at the milky white liquid while he poured it. "Sake?"

"Yes, it's stronger than it tastes, so keep that in mind, and go slow." Glasses of water were also placed on the bar next to them.

She sipped the drink. It was oddly supple in her mouth, with a flavour she couldn't really place. Like a melon, but not sweet. While sipping the drink, she watched the chef. He did something with fish and rice, and shortly a small plate with six beautifully cut bits of fish resting on perfect rice pillows was placed in front of them.

"So what is this?"

"The very dark red fish is tuna, the lighter red is salmon, and the white is some sort of sea bass I think." He picked up his chop sticks, selected a piece of tuna, and dipped it into the small bowl of brown liquid. She selected a piece of the bass, and followed his lead by dipping it into the sauce.

Her first impression was salty, with a slow fiery glow in the background. Then the soft almost sweetness of the rice, and the richness of the fish, all in one little mouthful. She followed it up with the tuna, and was pleasantly surprised. In her experience tuna always tasted like something that should be fed to Crookshanks. But this had not even the slightest hint of cat food about it. A few moments passed while they ate in silence, enjoying the fish, and then the plate was empty, and Hermione was wishing there had been more.

Snape noticed the longing on her face. "That was just the first course; there'll be more in a few moments."

"So, when did you start to eat sushi? It just seems so exotic."

"I was in London, six years ago, and extremely pissed, just totally out of it. I wandered into a little bar like this one. I was looking for another drink. The chef took one look at me and took pity on me; I guess. Anyway, instead of an alcoholic drink, I ended up with a steaming cup of green tea, and a small platter of raw fish. Now, you'd probably think raw fish and pissed would not be a winning combination, but somehow this worked. I ate the fish, started to feel somewhat sober, drank the tea, and became even clearer. Then more fish started to show up, and by that point I was sober enough to enjoy what I was eating. I've been hooked ever since. A week later I was back at the sushi bar, and I got to know the chef, he's a native of Japan, and of wizarding stock. They have their own magic traditions, and part of his magic involved a knife and fish.

"I never did find out why he took pity on me, but somehow he decided that I was in need of help and provided it. It was one of the first genuine acts of kindness I had received since getting out of Azkaban. He moved back to Japan two years ago. And I began my hunt for a sushi replacement. Last week I found this place, and finally someone who had the skills to live up to Akisu. So I brought you here. "

By the time he finished his story, the next plate of fish was sitting between them. This one consisted of small bits of tuna, seared on the outside and raw on the inside. Hermione tucked in, enjoying the hot-cold duality immensely.

"I know this isn't a delicate question, but why were you staggering about drunk? It seems somewhat out of character."

Severus smiled ruefully. "It wasn't as out of character as I would have liked it to have been. I had a rough time after the trial. I was free, and officially a 'Hero'. But I wasn't trusted. I didn't have a job, or much money, and it wasn't like anyone was banging down my door with offers for work. Technically I was 'writing,' but as I'm sure you know, 'writing' can leave you with vastly too much time to think." She nodded, there was 'writing' and there was writing, and the one left you with much more time, usually of a not-so-productive nature, than the other.

"I spent about a year floundering about, wishing I had stayed dead, trying to find something to do with the time I had on my hands, and then one day I noticed that the houses around mine were starting to sell. My old neighborhood was gentrifying. I sold Spinner's End as a genuine, historically-accurate example of an 1880's mill town house to some historical architecture wonk who was thrilled at how 'authentic' it was. Suddenly I had enough money to start potions work on my own. I bought my current house, fixed it up. I don't know how he found out that I was in business, but George Weasley came to me about setting up his Antidote kit, and because his business is still officially a joke shop, he also had me brew up a squeaking draught."

"You did those? He never said anything. For months no one wanted to drink anything around him for fear of speaking in a squeaky voice for the next two hours."

"It was my understanding that eating anything around him was a bad idea."

"Well, that would be accurate, but less so these last few years. He's now got a tester panel and marketing researchers. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes are now available by owl around the world, and he's got shops in seven countries. You're right about being 'officially' a joke shop. I think most of his biggest customers are buying his protective gear. Those little antidote kits you made for him are one of his best sellers."

Snape smiled. He made two galleons off of the sale of each of those kits, and he was very aware of how well they sold.

"So, you were floundering about in the wilds of the immediate post-war years…"

"Ahhh… Once I got my lab set up, I remembered how much I enjoyed my work. I spent more time on research and found some purpose again. By that time I was really writing and had the book done shortly thereafter. Things have been on an upward spiral ever since. Then in the ultimate cosmic irony, last year Lucius Malfoy died, and the Wizengamot upheld his will. So I'm officially the trustee of the Malfoy fortune, much to Draco's immense displeasure. He needs someone to watch him with the money as much as Hagrid needs another six inches of height.

"What about you, what did you do after the war?"

Hermione noticed that the tuna was gone, and a plate with something that looked like baby octopus sitting on it was in front of them now. Snape eagerly snared a piece, and ate it with relish.

"I went through my own valley of the shadow. As soon as the funerals were done, I went to Australia to get my parents, and was surprised to find they didn't want to go back to Surrey. I stayed with them for a month, mostly sulking, and then one night I decided I had to find wandless magic. There had to be a way to use it; baby wizards do all the time. I spent the next year looking for some hints of it, and I found some, but not enough to learn how to do it myself. Then I got a break, and found out about a group in Cleveland. You read my book, so you know about my time with them. The Watcher's were willing to trade learning basic wanded magic for wandless magic.

"America was a good place for me. The Watchers are a sort of vigilante group; they go after dangerous or evil magical creatures. 'Demons,' in their terms. I got to learn wandless magic, and how good it can feel to beat the shit out of something using your bare hands. I'll never be a fighter on the level of those girls, but it is an amazingly cathartic experience to take control of a situation, and just let yourself beat the anger out. I spent a year there and came home still sorrowful but much less angry. I was still mourning the future I didn't get to have. I still do some days, but I was ready to start trying my new future.

"I wrote the book while boning up for my N.E.W.T.s. Got them out of the way, and then spent an extra year with Professor Vector on Arithmancy. At the end of that, she decided to retire, and I took her place. I get back to the Watcher's once a year, usually in the summer, to improve my skills, distribute wands, and teach the girls some basic skills. Before this law came up, I had three of my wandless students who were going to join the Watcher's Council full time. I still have to see if they are going to go."

"Will you be going this year?"

"I hope to. Would you like to come with me?"

"Very much so." The small plate of baby octopus was gone, and some sort of small rolls of rice and fish wrapped in a black papery looking substance had replaced them. Hermione was starting to feel full, and decided to let Snape have most of that plate. She knew dancing and a very full stomach was not a good combination. He noticed she was eating less.

"Don't like this one?"

"It's lovely, but if I eat much more I won't want to dance."

"Good point. We don't want to be sluggish."

"When I hear the music I want to be able to move to it." Snape took a moment to appreciate the mental image of Hermione dancing.

"And I certainly wouldn't want to lag behind you." They finished up the plate, and he asked for the check.

They walked out, and she took his hand. After a few steps he cast the spell, and they were in a different part of the city. The building next to them looked dodgy: run down, covered in graffiti, but there was a line outside, and the music was loud enough she could hear it through the walls. When they got inside the music was pounding so loudly that Hermione's body was vibrating, and any words spoken at less than a scream inaudible. She could see something like a bar, and a few tables squeezed into the sides and corners of the room. The rest of the room was dance floor. Light pulsed with the music as bodies grooved to the beat.

"This is perfect!" she yelled in Snape's ear.

He nodded back at her, took her arm, and led her to the dance floor. They began to find a rhythm together. The first few minutes were a bit awkward, but then the DJ hit on a song they both liked and knew.

She pulled closer to Snape and shouted to him. "I love this song!"

The first notes to 'You Shook Me All Night Long' began. Snape yelled back, "A favourite of mine for quite a while, too."

Hermione gave him her best wicked smile as she moved into the beat. He grinned back at her, and placed his fingers on the small of her back. As the song continued they moved closer and closer to each other. Her hips touched his as the lyric "she told me to come…" played. He ran his fingers lightly up her body, while she slid her hips against his.

The DJ moved from AC/DC to Shakira, and she pulled back to shimmy a bit in front of him. He watched her move, her breasts jiggling under her top, and licked his lips. He cradled her face with his hands, and pulled her toward him for a kiss. She leaned into the kiss, both of their bodies still moving to the beat of the music.

'What I Like About You' began and the kiss broke. She moved away from him and threw her head back, joyfully laughing. She twisted around, so he could watch her back while she moved in her best sexy dance. He was content to watch her move for a few moments, but as the Romantics faded and Shaggy replaced them, he pulled her back to him, settling his hands on her hips. Then lifting one hand to draw her hair out of the way; he placed a kiss on her neck. She arched back into him, turned around, placed her hands on his chest, and kissed him back.

They continued to dance for the better part of two hours. Kisses and caresses interspersed with the fast rhythmic motions of the dance. Finally Hermione begged off for a moment. They walked over to the side of the dance floor, and found an unoccupied chair. Snape offered her the chair, but she shook her head.

"I have a better idea," she yelled into his ear. She had him sit down, and settled herself in his lap. They sat quietly, while she caught her breath.

He wrapped his arms around her, looking deeply into her eyes. She had the feeling they were having a conversation, though neither of them spoke. He stroked her hair, and moved his lips to her ear. "Would you like to come home with me?"

She pulled her ear from his lips, and bent to kiss him, deeply and with a promise of good things to come. Then moving her lips to his ear, she bit his earlobe, and said, "I've been waiting for you to say that all night."

He smiled at her, and they walked out of the club, his arm around her waist.

* * *

A/N: A Proper Romance is a teen rated piece. There are, however some M rated bits, that have been sequestered off in A Proper Romance: The M Chapters. If you'd like to know what happens between leaving the dance and breakfast, head over there. If you prefer fade to black style romance, head to the next chapter.


	25. In Which We Have Breakfast

Chapter 26: In Which We Have Breakfast

Snape awoke to a strange sensation. There was something warm and fuzzy pressed against his back. He lay very still, trying to figure out what it was by touch and sound alone. _This is bloody useless! _He opened his eyes and saw, in the dim light, that he was where thought he should be, in his room, but he was looking at the wrong side of it. He should be on the other side of the bed.

_Hermione. She's on my side of the bed. _He smiled as memories of the night before raced through his mind. He rolled over, and wrapped an arm around her. Her back had been pressed against his, her hair between them. The warm, fuzzy mystery solved, he looked up to see that it was only a few minutes past four. He closed his eyes, nuzzled her neck, and went back to sleep.

When Hermione awoke the light was brighter. She looked around, remembered why she was where she was, smiled, and studied the arm wrapped around her chest, the left hand resting against her collar bone. She stoked his hand with her chin. His arm muscles were well defined under pale skin sprinkled lightly with fine black hairs. A few freckles showed that he had spent at least some time in the sun.

She kissed his index finger and slowly, gently began the task of scooting out of bed without waking him up. After a few moments of slow motion acrobatics, she was standing next to his bed, and he was sprawled in the middle, lying on his stomach, breathing deeply. She spent a few moments gazing at the planes of his back. The way his hair rested against his face. The gentle curve of his bum under the blankets. _He's so pretty. Who would have thought it? Who would have thought I would ever get to know it?_

She padded quietly into the bathroom and shut the door. Last night in the dark she hadn't really noticed much beyond the fact that the loo was where she thought it would be. In the light she saw it was clean enough for surgery, and he had apparently purchased a toothbrush for her. She picked up the red brush and went to work on her teeth. The last thing she wanted was a bad case of morning after breath.

Having finished her teeth she peeked outside and saw he was still sleeping. _Not much for mornings are you?_ She turned on the water, waited for it to warm up, and stepped under the spray. While the water beat down on her she investigated the toiletries. The soap was a plain white bar. Next to it was a tube, an unlabeled bottle, a bottle of conditioner, and his razor. She sniffed at the tube and identified it as his shaving lotion. That meant the unlabeled bottle must be shampoo. _Does he make his own? He must, probably the same with the soap and lotion._ She couldn't really imagine him buying shampoo and then pouring it into another bottle. _Well, maybe if he had a properly black bottle. _She looked at the black shower curtain, and remembered the black towels and bathmats._ Where does he shop? Who sells all black shower curtains? _

She was lathering her hair when it occurred to her that he must have specially bought the conditioner for her as well. _That's sweet. He certainly put some thought into this. _She stepped out, wrapped a towel around herself, and began her morning hair routine. After it was mostly dry, she decided to skip the lengthy straightening charms, and just braid it.

She looked at the end of the braid and realised she didn't have anything to secure it with. Then something a little more important sprang to mind: _I don't have any real clothes. _

_Well, you can apparate home, change, and come back. You can transfigure his towel into something else. You can walk out there in said towel and hope he offers you a shirt or something. Men usually think you look cute in their clothing. _

She quietly opened the shower door and found the room empty. A black and gray flannel dressing gown lay on the bed, and cooking sounds were coming from downstairs. She wrapped the gown around herself and walked to the kitchen. Sizzling sounds and lovely fried smells greeted her. She inhaled deeply, aware of how hungry she was. _I hope it's a proper fry up. Haven't had one of those in years._

She stopped quietly at the door of his kitchen, wanting to watch him work, herself unobserved. He was standing before the stove, looking deliciously rumpled, wearing only a pair of black drawstring trousers. His hands were moving competently, flipping bacon in the fry pan, while a knife cut thick slices of bread.

"Good morning." She walked over, put her arms around him, and placed a kiss on his shoulder. "That smells excellent."

"I'm glad to hear it." He set the fork he was flipping the bacon with down, turned in her arms, and kissed her on the lips.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Very. I'm usually up just after six, so I must have been pretty tired to sleep in until nine."

He smiled smugly. "I hope to have many chances to tire you out in the future."

She grinned back. "If you'll cook me breakfast like this, you can tire me out any night you chose. So, can I help with anything?"

"There are strawberries in the fridge that need a wash, and the tea needs to be brewed," he said while going back to the cooker, this time to tend the eggs.

She looked around his kitchen, saw the tea pot, and filled it with water. She didn't see anything that looked like tea. "Tea would be?"

"Pantry." He jerked his head in the direction of a small closed door. "You can't miss it."

She opened the door. _There's an understatement. He's got to have fifteen kinds of tea in here._ She began picking up jars and smelling their contents. "Do you have a favourite?"

"I think the third from the left goes well with this kind of food." She put the jar she was holding down, and grabbed the one he had indicated. Two quick spells later and the tea was sitting in the pot, holding at the proper steeping temperature. While she washed the strawberries, he plated breakfast.

"It's a pleasant day. Would you like to eat in the garden?"

"Sounds good. Lead the way." She followed him, carrying the strawberries and tea. He placed the plates on the outside table and ducked back into the house. He returned with cutlery and a very soft and worn looking v-neck jumper.

"I usually eat out here," he said while slipping the jumper over his head. His hand automatically went to push the sleeves up, and then stopped mid-motion. Hermione, who had been blissfully unaware of what he was doing, noticed the way he stopped moving. He looked slightly chagrined, and she noticed his left hand on his right arm.

"It's okay. I know it's there; you don't have to hide it."

"I usually don't think about it. There's usually no one to see it, and I don't like my sleeves to get in the way."

Hermione took his hand, and gently twisted his arm so she could see the Dark Mark clearly. Her fingers traced over it. "Did it hurt much?"

"When I got it? When it fired? Now?"

"Yes."

"Not as much as you would think. It was quite painful when I got it, but that was the point. People can talk about loyalty all they want, but when you let someone burn their mark into your skin that goes quite a way further than words. Unlike a regular burn it stopped hurting in a matter of hours. When it fired it sort of pulsed warmly and would get more intense the longer you waited to respond. After he died, when it was scarring over, it was a bit itchy. Now, I don't feel it at all."

They continued to talk lightly throughout breakfast. As Hermione nibbled the last of the strawberries, he asked, "What are your plans for the rest of today?"

"I've got an exciting day of paper grading, rounds, and test question writing planned. I'm on duty from noon to midnight, so I have to head off soon. It wouldn't do for me to show up in last night's outfit."

"Yes, I imagine you might get some stern words from Minerva should you show up like that."

"Professor Granger!" Hermione mimicked the sound of an appalled Scottish woman. Then she shook her head. "I shouldn't do things like that. It's not kind to mock people."

"It's not, but sometimes it's worth it. We don't always have to follow the advice of our better angels." She was standing up, gathering her now empty plate and silverware. "Tomorrow then?" Snape asked.

"You really want to come?" Hermione asked.

He thought about how to answer that while they carried the remnants of breakfast back to his kitchen. "Want may not be the correct word. I feel like I should go."

"Slughorn said you used to play Quiddich."

Snape looked puzzled. "Yes."

"Bring your broom. There's always a game of some sort going on at the Burrow. If all else fails, you can get in the air and clobber a bludger." While he set the dishes to washing, she returned to the bedroom for her clothing. After a kiss good-bye and a somewhat serious mental debate on Hermione's part about taking Snape back to bed and showing up for work late, she stepped into the floo, and returned home.


	26. In Which Hermione Has Tales For Ginny

Chapter 27: In Which Hermione Has Tales for Ginny

"...and then he said, 'I wouldn't have it any other way.'"

"How cute!" Ginny said, sitting on Hermione's couch in her office. Hermione was enjoying her free hour between her last round and dinner by chatting with her friend.

"So Severus Snape, Black Bat of the Dungeons, The Greasy Git, Five Time Winner of the Son of A Bitch Club's Outstanding Achievement Award, is a master of the vertical and horizontal mambos."

"I don't know about master, but he's certainly pretty damn good. It's kind of interesting, having sex with a guy who's done it with someone else before. Less fumbly." Hermione thought about last night. "I hope I lived up to what he was looking for."

"You were there naked. That's all he's really looking for."

"You sure?"

Ginny grinned. "Well, it's not like I've made a poll of all the guys I know. And I certainly haven't asked Snape specifically, but it seems like everything beyond you naked is just icing on the cake."

"But what if icing is what he likes best?" Hermione was starting to get a case of the post-coital doubts. Ginny wanted to laugh about it, but decided not to, it took seven years for her friend to risk this kind of intimacy with another man. She wasn't about to do anything that might hurt that.

"He made breakfast for you?"

"Yes."

"He was happy to see you in the morning?"

"Yes."

"He's coming to the Burrow tomorrow?"

"Yes."

Ginny shook her heard. "You did just fine. But, if you feel a need for 'icing,' get on your knees and offer him some next time."

Hermione blushed. "I've never done that before."

"Never?"

"It's not like Ron and I had scads of private time while we were hunting Voldemort. We used our free time for other things."

Ginny winced at the mental image of her brother and her friend. "I probably didn't need to know that."

"Well, I'm not the one who asked." Hermione fiddled with her drink. "So, what do I do with it while I'm on my knees?"

Ginny grinned. "Ever eat an ice lolly?"

Hermione nodded. Then her eyes widened. "Oh."

"Yeah, it's not human to animal transfiguration. He starts to make happy noises, keep doing what you're doing. Not enough happy noises then suck harder and move your head more. Use your hand as a buffer if he's gagging you." Hermione raised an eyebrow. Ginny used her hand to show her what she meant.

"I can do that."

"If you aren't going to swallow, you'll want to practice an extremely focused version of the vanishing spell."

"Do you swallow?" Hermione looked very curious.

Ginny grin grew bigger. "Yes, Harry loves it. He's usually very… appreciative… afterwards." Ginny stopped to think. "It makes sense really; call it the Oral Sex Golden Rule, 'Do unto him as you would have him do unto you.' You don't want him wiping off his tongue and going 'ick' right after, so don't do it yourself."

Hermione sat on the sofa staring out her window, not really seeing anything. Ginny smiled, remembering back to the time before she had done it to Harry and was still debating it in her head._ Eight years! Has it really been that long? _

After another minute she decided to bring her friend back to the present. "So, he's coming tomorrow?"

Hermione blinked and shook her head slightly, as if clearing cobwebs. "Yes, I was sure that after telling him he need not come to any of these that he'd stay home, but he wants, well, maybe not wants, but he's going to come."

"Severus Snape at the Burrow. Wow. Who would have thought?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I know. Who would have thought?"

"Have you told my mum yet? Better yet, have you told your mum yet?"

"I was going to floo Molly after dinner, before my next rounds. As for my mum… I told you about the fit she threw about the law and how she all but wanted to kidnap me out of the country calling it a 'barbaric anti-woman tragedy.'"

"Well, she's not necessarily wrong."

Hermione sighed. That was the worst part about arguing with her mother about this, she was right. "I know that, but the law isn't nearly as bad as she thinks it is. She's sure that tomorrow or the next day we'll no longer be citizens, the men will start shackling us to the cooker, stealing our wands, and banning us from Hogwarts." She paused, sipped her drink, and spoke again, "Anyway, I'm not sure how she'll react to any man I met through this law, and I'm not all that eager to find out."

"Well, technically you didn't meet him through the law."

"Yeah, I'm not sure, 'Mum, he used to be my Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor' is a real improvement. She'll have visions of him trying to take advantage of me at fifteen."

"How about he was one of your colleagues in the Order?"

"That's better, but you know she didn't really like the whole Order thing either. 'Vigilante justice. Why do you have to risk your life? Let the Ministry handle it.'" Hermione mimicked her mother. "I'll just go with the truth, and deal with the fall out. But I'll be damned if I'll bring him to meet them if she's going to be nasty about it. Enough of my friends have good reasons to not like him, I'm not about to subject him to my mother's bad ones."


	27. In Which Severus Enters the Lion's Den

Chapter 28: In Which Severus Enters the Lions' Den

Severus was sitting in his favourite chair, staring at an article that he was not reading, wondering how long time could stretch. She was due at his home in a matter of minutes, but somehow the last few minutes had lasted at least three hours, so he was fairly sure the next three would do the same.

Finally the fire in the Floo flared green, and she stepped through.

"Hello Severus."

"Hello yourself." He walked to her and kissed her.

"Are you ready?"

He grabbed his broom, placed his hand in hers, and said, "As I'll ever be."

"Then let's go." She cast the Apparate that landed them in front of the Burrow.

The first thing that hit him when his mind cleared was the noise. There had to be five hundred children behind that house to make so much noise. The second thing he noticed was that there was some sort of pick-up Quiddich game going on. At least ten members of the extended Weasley clan were flying about behind the house. The third thing was Hermione holding his hand, looking at him gently, and kissing him once more. Her touch was supportive, and all too quickly ended.

"Mum! Muuuuuuummmmm! Aunt Hermione's here, with a man, and she's kissing him." A small, high pitched voice carried through the noise of the Burrow. The prettiest little girl Snape had ever seen was staring at him while she held the front door open. Adult voices came from behind the door. He could see a tall blond woman coming toward the child. Hermione walked forward.

"Hello, Victoire. Now that everyone knows we're here, how about giving me a hug?" The girl hugged Hermione, but never took her eyes off of Snape.

Hermione introduced him to the child. "Severus, this is Victoire. She's Bill and Fleur's oldest daughter. Somewhere around here is her younger sister Marie and her little brother Jean. They're easy to spot because they're the only blondes in the lot." The little girl offered him her hand, and he shook it gently, not really sure how to go about dealing with a child this young. He was saved from having to come up with chit chat with a child by said child's mother and her mother-in-law coming to the door.

The last time Snape had seen Fleur Weasley, she had been seventeen and had a different name. She had been intensely lovely back then. In the ten years that had passed she had become even more beautiful. He blinked a few times and quickly focused on Molly Weasley before he did something that might annoy Hermione. _Thank all that is good and holy that she can't read minds. _

Hermione once again took his hand, smiled at him, and led him into the Burrow.

Molly Weasley spoke first, "Hermione." She wrapped Hermione in a big hug and kissed her on the cheek. "Grab a spoon and lend us a hand. Hello, Severus, good of you to come." If she was shocked by the change in his appearance, she didn't let on. But Hermione did notice it was a less warm welcome than any of the other potential in-laws had gotten in the last few years. Oh well, Molly didn't ban him from the house. It was a start.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley, thank you for inviting me." His posture was stiff, his manners a tad too formal.

Hermione jumped in. "Let me introduce Severus around, and then I'll be back to help." She turned to Snape. "You know Molly. We go by first names here, because there's," she counted quickly," eight Mrs. Weasleys here." She led him to Ginny; who smiled warmly at him. "It's been a while and she's a Potter now, but I think you know Ginny, and I think you've met Fleur." He nodded.

The five women in the kitchen were watching him closely. Ginny had a huge grin on her face.

"Hello Ginny, Fleur." Snape felt like his smile of greeting was lukewarm and ridiculous looking. Ginny smiled back. Fleur nodded and returned to whatever she was cooking.

Hermione started introducing again. "By the stove is Anna, Charlie's wife. They met in Romania, and at the sink is Deidre, George and Angelina's wife. She was a teammate of Angelina's when they played for York. The little girl Ginny is holding is Molly also." Hermione bent down to tickle her niece's chin, and give her a kiss on the forehead. "And this little guy," a small baby with a thick shock of red hair kicked happily in a bouncy chair on the table, grinning toothlessly while Hermione stroked his head, "is Aiden; he's Deidre and George's."

Severus greeted the other occupants of the kitchen. They didn't glare at him, so that was probably as good a start as he could have hoped for.

"Is everyone else out back?" Hermione asked.

Ginny nodded and hopped up, smiling, "Let me go with you." She turned to Severus. "I see Hermione told you about the official sport of the Weasleys."

Snape realized he was still holding his broom. "Yes, she recommended bringing it along."

"What position do you play?"

"It's been an extremely long time, but I used to play chaser."

"So did I."

"I know. I watched your final game with the Holyhead Harpies."

"_You_ watched that game?" Ginny looked amazed. The three of them began to head outside.

Snape shrugged, finding small talk a bit easier than he had expected. "Well, I was sitting on the Cannons side of the pitch."

"You and everyone else. But I suppose it's to be expected when a team gets to the finals after 364 years of finishing somewhere at the bottom..." While they continued to talk about 'The Greatest Upset in Quiddich History', the season where the Chudley Cannons made it to the finals only to be thrashed by the Holyhead Harpies, 670 to 120, Hermione noticed Molly's look softening as her youngest child, and her almost daughter's new boyfriend talked about Quiddich. _It's a start. Thank you Ginny!_

Outside was chaos, friendly, loving chaos. Small children ran in some sort of a tag-like game, while smaller children toddled about and played with favourite toys. Three men were riding herd on the children, talking with each other, occasionally breaking off mid sentence to yell something about 'no pushing' or 'share that with your cousin…' Two of them Snape readily identified. The black haired one was Harry. The one with the greying red hair had to be Arthur. He looked more closely at the Weasley in between them, and identified George. All three men were holding children. Harry and George's were somewhere between babies and toddlers. The one piggybacked on Arthur looked to be about four.

"Harry, look who's here!" Ginny called when they entered the back garden. Harry turned, and Snape watched his face light up to see Ginny and then fall to see him standing next to her. Hermione walked around them and gave Harry and the other two hugs while kissing the children.

She walked back to Snape, grabbed him by the hand, and pulled him the last few steps. "Severus, you know the adults." They all nodded at each other. "So let me introduce you to these three fine fellows. Being held by his daddy is JS Potter," a small red-haired boy, the spitting image of Ginny, looked at him while chewing his fist. "This little cutie is Fred Weasley. His mom is Angelina." The cocoa coloured toddler had absolutely no interest in what was going on around him; he was watching his mum fly about above the fray. "And riding his Grandpa's shoulders is Sean, he's Percy and Penelope's oldest."

Two older children ran over. The oldest had blue, make that green, and now pink hair. He was followed by Victoire. The boy almost tackled Hermione with a lunging hug.

"Hello Teddy, this is my friend Severus," she said when he pulled back from her.

Teddy looked him up and down, and reminded Severus so forcefully of Remus, he couldn't speak for a moment. These days he wished Lupin had made it. They would probably never be warm friends, but it would have been nice to have someone from the class of '77 around. Someone who remembered those days. The child offered him his hand, and they shook.

"Hello Teddy."

"Hello Severus. Are you going to marry my aunt?"

The six adults went quiet. Well, it was likely to happen at some point. A yard full of children who had been to God alone knew how many weddings over the last five years. Who had been introduced to who knew how many 'friends.' Snape looked at Hermione, and raised his eyebrow. She nodded back at him.

"Yes, I think I am." Ginny gleamed. Her twinkling eyes looked like they came right out of the 'Albus Dumbledore Beneficent Looks Catalogue.' Arthur also looked happy. George laughed out loud, and even Harry looked somewhat amused. Teddy continued to look him over.

"He'll do, Aunt Hermione." This time all the adults did start to laugh. Teddy looked hurt. Why were they laughing at him? He started to sulk. Hermione noticed his hurt look before the others, and gathered him in another hug.

"We aren't laughing at you. We're just happy." Which may not have been the entire truth, but was true enough to get Teddy smiling again. Shortly thereafter he and Victoire ran off to chase the dark haired boy (Ron Potter, he was told) away from the swing set.

Hermione looked at Snape, "I'm going to leave you here, before Molly comes looking for me. She'll want me to put at least some work into dinner." She quickly kissed him, squeezed his hand, and then left him, alone, with Harry, George, and Arthur. Ginny followed her back to the house. The four men stood silently, time stretching, getting more and more awkward as each moment passed.

Finally Arthur saved the day by asking, "So what kind of broom is that Severus?" And once more, safe, easy Quiddich conversation began. All the men were impressed that Snape had seen Ginny's final game, and although he didn't follow York, he was impressed with the tales of Angelina and Deidre's careers.

Inside the kitchen, Hermione went to work on a large pile of carrots, destined for slaw. Since the work needed was minimal, and any of the other witches present could have done it in their sleep, she was fairly sure it was an excuse to get her in the room for some 'girl talk.'

"You should have seen it; it was so cute…" Ginny was speaking. "Teddy asked, 'Are you going to marry my aunt?' He looked at Hermione and kind of lifted an eyebrow and when she nodded he said, 'Yes, I think I am.'"

"This is the same man who spent so much time with Karkarov?" Fleur's accent had all but disappeared, but her word patterns were still very French.

"Can you believe it?" Ginny sounded well nigh giddy.

Fleur shook his head. Anna and Deidre looked confused. "So what is with this Snape bloke? He seems nice enough. I was expecting death warmed over to come through that door," Deidre said.

"That's a long, long story," Molly said, "but the short version goes something like this. He used to teach at Hogwarts, and while all my kids were there he was the Head of the rival house. He was a very nasty person then. Then the war started, and he was a spy, a double agent, for the Order, but Ron and Harry never really trusted him, but we did because Dumbledore did. Then he killed Dumbledore, and we were just heartbroken. Many hours of 'How could we have been so stupid? How could Dumbledore have been so stupid…' followed the murder. During the battle of Hogwarts he helped Harry, and let him know he was part of the Order all along. We thought he had been killed by Voldemort during the battle. Then half way through Black June he appeared, and provided information that helped to capture the free Death Eaters. He went on trial and it came out that Dumbledore had ordered Snape to kill him to cement his image of Loyal Death Eater, and to make sure that Snape would be placed in a position to help the schoo, and Harry, as much as possible. But in the course of that long tangled history he managed to alienate just about everyone around him."

"With good reason," Hermione added. "Voldemort had the ability to read minds, and Snape was the only one who could resist being read. But if anyone else who had had any dealing with Snape had been captured, and had any good memories of Snape, anything to show him acting in an Un-Death Eater way, and that would have been the end of him."

"His cover was so good he's the one who cut George's ear off." Molly was angry.

"He's also the man who made sure Ron and I came home from the Ministry alive," Ginny added. "Basically, imagine a huge black bat permanently sucking on a lemon, with a wand shoved up his…"

"Ginny!" Molly looked horrified, shock at her daughter's words rapidly replacing anger.

"Actually, that's a pretty good description of Snape during the Hogwarts years," Hermione added. "But as you can see, he's… unclenched… a bit since then." Ginny and Hermione giggled. "It's like there's two men. I call him Snape when I think of the past, because that's who he was, and now…" She looked out the window at the man talking with Harry, George, and Arthur. "Now I'm thinking of him as Severus."

"So, what kind of wedding do you want?" Anna asked while mixing batter for biscuits.

"We haven't talked about it yet. That episode Ginny described was our entire conversation on the subject. I mean, I know we know we're heading in that direction…"

"No, I mean what kind of wedding would _you_ like?" Anna clarified.

"Ummm… I don't know. I know what I don't like." The copy of Witch Weekly that Deidre had been using a pudding recipe from wafted over. Hermione flipped through it, and held up a picture of a young witch, probably about twenty-years-old, looking radiant, standing in a meringue-like mound of taffeta covered in sparkly beads.

"I don't want that. I really don't want that." She continued to flip through the pages, "I mean is there nothing simple and elegant here? Does everything need lace, ruffles, beads, and tulle?" She flipped to the writing your own vows section, read for a moment, and then continued. "And this, do I really need to be reminded that Weird Sister's lyrics don't make the best wedding vows? I'm a grown-up. I don't need a Barbie fantasy wedding."

The other women looked at her. She gestured dismissively. "It's a fashion doll I grew up with… Never mind. Harry would have gotten it," Hermione added under her breath.

She continued on in her regular voice, "I like that Fleur and Bill got married here. I liked that Ginny and Harry wrote their vows. I liked how Deidre and George and Angelina all married each other, and the matching tattoos. And, Anna, I thought your gown was especially lovely. I want something solemn and beautiful and joyous." She was quiet, and then the words came to her. "I want to celebrate a marriage, not have a big party for its own sake."

"Are you really going to marry someone you don't love?' Deidre asked.

Hermione was very quiet. Molly looked up sharply. "You aren't in love with him? Not yet!"

"No, of course not. It's only been two weeks. But," and she looked back out the window, Severus still talking with Harry, gesturing at the flying Weasleys, "I'm starting to think I could."

* * *

Supper proceeded with Snape being introduced to the rest of the Weasley clan. Most of them he was familiar with because of his days teaching, but two of Percy's wives were from the continent, and he had never met Fleur's cousin Pierre before either.

Hermione sat on one side of Severus, Percy on the other, with Ginny and Harry across from him. Hermione was impressed because both he and Harry were working very hard to get along with each other. She wanted to hug both of them. Ginny was also doing an excellent job of keeping the conversation going on safe topics. How to design a Celtic knot took up twenty minutes at least. By the end of which Harry was proudly showing off the knot Ginny had designed for him and placed on his bicep.

During a lull in the conversation Snape leaned to Percy and said conspiratorially, "I think I've figured out your plan."

Percy blanched, how could Snape have figured out the hand he and Dumbledore had in bringing them together?

Severus, who had been trying to make a joke, noticed Percy's reaction and decided this warranted further information. He caught a quick glimpse of Percy and what looked like Dumbledore's Ghost talking. Curious. He'd have to find a way to learn more. Later. Snape decided to continue onto his punch line before making Percy too uncomfortable. "By my count, by the time you make a move for Minister of Magic you'll be related to half the wizarding world by marriage or blood."

Percy smiled, relief washing over his features. "Yes, you see the brilliance of it.

And, with that in mind…" Percy stood up. No one noticed for a few moments, finally he shouted, "Hey!" The rest of the Weasleys stared at him. "I wanted to let you all know that we'll be adding a new member to the family." A roar of 'congratulations', and 'when are you due?' began, but Percy gestured for quiet. "Pierre, will be marrying into our branch of the family."

The kids were still making noise, but the adults had all gone silent. They had gotten used to the multiple wives thing, even though only George and Percy had more than one. They had gotten used to the idea that George, Angelina, and Deidre were a triple, rather than two couples. But this was new. They had joked about Percy and his four wives for quite a while now, but a new husband? Fleur was the first to react; she stood and walked to her cousin, and hugged him warmly.

"Who will you be marrying?" she asked.

"All of the ladies. They've been kind enough to accept me into their home, and I'm happy to join. We're thinking of a Christmas wedding. This time, the DeLacour Family would like to host all of you at our home."

A bubble of tension burst when he said "All of the ladies." Arthur stopped squirming uncomfortably, and Molly started to breathe again. There were some bridges they didn't want to imagine their children crossing. Even if Pierre looked like a male version of Fleur.

Dinner continued with wedding talk from then on. Percy's, and soon to be Pierre's, wives seemed quite excited with the prospect of another wedding, this time in southern France. They were bubbling over with details, and plans, and it was with a sigh that Hermione realized this event would be the exact opposite of what she had been describing in the kitchen.

Molly and Ginny grabbed Hermione for help cleaning up in kitchen. She gave Severus a warm look and left him at the table. Shortly thereafter the meal broke up and talk of another quick game started up. Angelina and Anna began to pick teams. Severus was starting to go fetch his broom when the men approached him.

It was, he thought, rather smoothly done. He had not seen any signal, or hint that they were going to do it. Yet, somehow they all knew this was the time. _Set up ahead of time. _All of the Weasley men and Harry converged on him in a circle. Much to his surprise it was Arthur who turned out to be the spokesman; he had been expecting Harry. _Yes, this was rather smoothly done._

"Severus, we'd like to make it extremely clear that Hermione is precious to us. And that if you hurt her, we will make you wish you had stayed dead."

He thought for a moment, looking for the precisely correct way to phrase his response. He decided to speak directly the Arthur and ignore the others. They were there mainly as a show of strength anyway.

"Arthur, you've been married, what thirty-five years?"

Arthur nodded. "And, I'm sure in that time you've done some things that have hurt Molly. A certain flying car springs to mind." He could see Arthur was about to speak but gestured for him to keep listening. "I cannot promise I won't ever hurt Hermione. But I can promise this: I will never do it intentionally. I will never hurt her more than she will forgive me. And I will never break my vows once I make them." Charlie, who had both been married less than three years, looked like he had just bitten into an orange only to find out it was a dyed lemon. But he noticed the others all looked thoughtful.

Arthur looked at the others; they nodded. "We can live with that. Now off with you, Severus and I have other things to talk about." The younger men dispersed among the crowd of Weasleys. "That was a good answer Severus."

"What did you expect?" He pitched his voice like that of an adolescent boy, "I'd never do anything to hurt Hermione, Mr Weasley."

"No, I did not expect you to be a teenager. I just didn't expect something so thoughtful."

Severus nodded. "So, we have things to talk about?"

"Let's start with the basics and go from there. Your parents are dead?"

"Yes, I am my own man in this matter."

"Hermione's parents are deeply insulted by the idea of a bride price, but I explained to them that at least some sort of token had to be exchanged to make the binding valid. Jane Granger's response was 'let him save his money and buy my daughter a nice house.' So you won't have to empty your account for her, but you will have to come up with something that won't insult her parents and still fits the bill. They do not want anything that smacks of you buying their daughter. Which comes to the next bit, can you support her?"

"Her, any children we have, you, your kids, their kids… I'm better off than most would guess. Draco has a good eye for investment, and I have jumped onto a few of his."

"Any previous engagements that may come up and bite you?"

Severus' expression of incredulity made Arthur choke off a laugh. "You're kidding right?" Severus asked.

"Just checking. All your bits in working order?"

Snape's eyes widened. "How can that be any of your business?" He had not expected Arthur Weasley to ask about his sex life.

"Since that's the only reason a marriage license won't be granted these days. If you can't produce, they won't let you marry a fertile woman. And as the deadline draws nearer, they are looking more and more to see that you and your lovely bride are already on the way to parenthood upon marriage."

Snape gritted his teeth, "To the best of my knowledge, all of my 'bits' are functional."

"Good, good, good. A member of the C of E?"

"I don't attend church, but the church I'm not attending would be C of E."

"That works. This is a two way street, is there anything I can answer for you?"

"There is something I have been wondering about."

"I'll tell you if I can."

"I've seen a picture of Hermione and her parents, but I couldn't really tell from the photo. I am younger than her parents, right?"

"Oh yes… They're in their early fifties. That would be a bit on the awkward side wouldn't it?" Arthur chuckled. Then he grew more serious. "I'd recommend you and Hermione get talking. The deadline is October 31st. That leaves you a bit under five months to get all your decisions made. If you go with a High Magic Ceremony, you need to get the papers in by 1st September. Plus, you may want to think about having the wedding before school starts. If you want time for a honeymoon, that is."

"We will discuss it soon."

"Splendid! Get back over to my boys; they're waiting for you to join the game."

* * *

Night fell, and the party began to wind down. The children were growing quiet, and several of the families had left. Severus was sitting in the Burrow's family room, talking with George about possible improvements to the antidote kit. He gazed across the room at Hermione.

She was cuddling one of the babies, Aiden or Molly, both had red hair, and both sets of parents were still here. The infant was sleeping on her chest. Vague domestic fantasies that he was unaware he was capable of washed through Severus. George watched him watch Hermione, a large smirk on his face.

"It's the best sight in the world." Snape jerked his head away from Hermione as George spoke. "Your woman with your child. Granted, with the exception of his brother, that's the cutest baby in the history of the world, so Hermione with your kids might not be quite as sweet…" The words stung for a moment, but he realized George meant them kindly.

"We'll just have to see."

Hermione came over and handed the baby to his father. "We've got to get going. I've got class early tomorrow."

They walked out making their goodbyes. "How was it?" she asked him.

"Better than I expected. Percy surprised me."

"No one expected him to end up with a Harem, let alone another husband to share them with. But he is the one who came up with the Polygamy bill, so what does that tell us?"

"Horny bugger. Speaking of which, will you spend the night?"

"Will we sleep?"

He smiled keenly. "Eventually."

"Lead the way Mr Snape." She placed her hand in his.

A/N: Chapter 29: In Which We Sleep, Eventually is located in A Proper Romance: The M Chapters. Head over there if you like your romance spicy. Head over to the next chapter here if you like it sweet.


	28. In Which We Explore Wizarding Weddings

Chapter 30: In Which We Explore Wizarding Weddings

Snape awoke the next morning feeling really good. He was rested. He was happy. And, as he stood under the spray of the shower, he was content. Among other reason for his joy was the fact he no longer worked at Hogwarts. Hermione had gotten up at some horrendously early hour. He had woken up just enough to kiss her goodbye and went right back to sleep.

Now, at the much more civilized hour of nine, he stepped out of his shower, and decided to take the next step.

He walked downstairs, slipping on his favourite jumper. A wave of his wand set his kettle to heating, and breakfast things skittered from their places to settle on the counter to await him. He spent several moments looking through his papers to find the bloody thing the Ministry had sent along with his list of matches. He knew he had tossed the _Guide to Courtship,_ but he was fairly sure he had kept the paperwork necessary for registering a marriage.

He located it at the bottom of his neatly stacked mail. Snape began to look it over while moving back to the kitchen. Today he let his wand do the cooking while he read the pages in front of him.

He put the pages down and devoutly hoped Percy had given this to some underling to write. It was the densest, least enjoyable wodge of words he had had the displeasure of running his eyes over in years.

_Who knew there were so many kinds of weddings? Is this ice cream? Do we really need thirty-one bloody flavours?_

He buttered his toast and began to think. The High Magic Ceremony was definitely out. He, Hermione, and the half a dozen other unmarried Order of Merlin winners were the only ones who qualified for it anyway. There was no way he was turning his wedding into a Ministry Support Festival. He felt pretty confident that Hermione wouldn't want their wedding to be a state occasion.

Ministry Wedding was a possibility. They just had to show up with the papers and be done with it. Anything else was up to them. _She'll probably want something a bit more romantic than heading to the Ministry and filling out forms._

Wizarding Church Wedding? Not unless it's really important to her. He hadn't set foot in a church for years, and had no desire to do so anytime soon. He needed to talk to her about that. Did she believe in God? It'd be nice to know before the kids started asking questions.

Binding Ceremony. That one intrigued him the most. Make your vows, bind them with an Unbreakable Vow, and one witness, no need for anyone else.

_We could do it tonight, be done with it, and go on from there. My kind of wedding. _

_What would you vow? Hmmm… Well, maybe not tonight. Better give this some thought._

Any legally binding muggle ceremony. Probably not. Granted, unlike much of the magical world, both he and Hermione officially existed, but he didn't like doing anything that reminded the muggle world of that fact.

He picked the papers up and continued reading. _Okay. Fill out the papers. Give the Bride your 'token of serious intent.' Who wrote this? I'll have to smack Percy for inflicting this one anyone. Hand over the bride price. Get her parents to sign to show they got it. Well, you knew you weren't going to avoid meeting them forever. Do the ceremony. Get the witness to sign the damn papers. Send them in, and voilá, we're married. In just fifty-seven easy steps. Bugger. _He finished his toast and sipped his tea. 

_Might as well get started on the 'token of serious intent.'_

He went upstairs to find the key to his Gringotts vault and then apparated to Diagon Alley. The Goblins at the door went through their usual thorough inspection until they were satisfied that he was indeed Severus Snape. They allowed him in, and after a few moments of waiting in line, he was escorted to his vault.

He stood in front of the door, nauseous from the ride down, and remembered the last time he visited the vault. Three years ago he had received a brief letter telling him he was the last of the Prince family. As such the contents of the Prince vault had been transferred to his.

He went to investigate and found three items. A book of extremely dark magic, that he was almost embarrassed to have in his possession, a small blue velvet sack, and an ancient wand, had joined the contents of his vault.

The wand he remembered as belonging to his Grandmother: an evil, smelly old woman who had scared him more than anything else as a child. As an adult he purposely modelled the Greasy Git persona after her. He wasn't sure what to do with her wand, so he just put it on a back shelf. Just moving it made him feel uncomfortable. The book ended up resting next to the wand. He knew more than enough curses to last two lifetimes, he didn't need any new ones, especially of the kind that book was likely to contain. Short of Voldemort returning, yet again, he wasn't going to have anything to do with that book.

The small sack he was curious about, but he didn't want to just open it. There was no way to know what might spill out of it. He put it in his pocket and took it home, where he could examine it from behind many protective spells.

Later that afternoon, he opened the very small bag. Three stones and a note spilled out. He spent twenty minutes casting various anti-dark magic spells on the four items. Then another twenty minutes casting various identification spells. Nothing came up, so they were either extremely sophisticated magic, or they were what they appeared to be, a note, a star sapphire, and two little milk opals.

The note read:

_Severus,_

_I understand that you will be the last of us. The other items should need no explanation. These are different. These stones have been used in some piece of bride jewellery for many, many generations. They are given mother to son, son to wife, mother to son and so on. Because my sister had a daughter they stayed on her finger until her death. _

_The jewellery belongs to the woman; the stones belong to the future. You are all that's left of our future. They are now yours. _

_Find someone to give them to._

_Rethana Prince_

It took him a few moments to remember that Rethana was his grandmother's sister. If he really tried, he thought he could remember meeting her once, at a disastrous Christmas where his family left before the pudding because of the horrendously cruel things his grandmother was saying to his father.

He had put them back in their sack and put the sack back in his vault. Fairly sure he'd never see them again.

And now he was holding the sack again. It was dusty from its years in the vault. He opened it and tipped the three tiny stones into his palm. The two opals were matched white, luminescent tears. The star sapphire was a small blue-gray oval, a perfect six pointed star gracing its centre. He stroked his finger over them, feeling their cool smoothness.

He put them back in the sack and signalled that he needed to be taken back up to the surface.

He walked down Diagon Alley, not really window shopping, but not ready to go home yet, either. It was almost entirely re-built. Many of the shops had new names, their original owners dead these seven years, and a few of the lots were still empty, but the rest was more or less how he remembered it. He watched the other shoppers carefully. Unlike the last time he was here, three years ago, no one stared. No one noticed him at all. He was safely forgotten.

He found himself standing in front of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and decided to go in. Mid-morning during a school day was not a busy time for the store, so the witch at the counter noticed him upon entering. "Can I help you, sir?"

"No, I'm just looking around." She was old enough that he was sure she must have been one of his students. A Hufflepuff, he thought. But she didn't appear to recognize him, and he had no desire to find out who she was. As he walked through the aisles he realized that Fred and George really had been extremely gifted Wizards. How could boys who produced eighteen kinds of joke candies routinely get T's in Potions? The fact that he was standing in one of the only two buildings that had survived the Death Eater strike of Black June also spoke to their skills with magic.

He walked into the back section, where the defensive magic was. His antidote kits were on a shelf with several other healing and first aid items. He continued to browse the defensive items while fingering the sack in his pocket. When he finished looking at the items, he walked quietly out of the store. The witch was stocking something at the back of the store and did not see him leave.

He walked past Madame Malkin's, rebuilt after Black June and currently run by the original Madame Malkin's daughter, and saw the display of wedding gowns and formal dress robes. Reminding him further of what was in his pocket, and that he needed to think of what to do with them.

He apparated home, looked at the stones, felt nothing even remotely like inspiration, and decided that what he really needed to do was work on his time delay potion. Hours later, while writing up his notes on that day's work, an idea hit him. He went to his fireplace and called her name.

Ginny Potter had gotten used to the fact that things were likely to pop up and surprise her, and that they were likely to do so at the least convenient time possible. So it was while she was spooning food into JS, while Ron was running around the kitchen, and while Molly was yelling for attention, that she heard her name coming from the floo.

She walked to the Floo in the Grimmauld Place Kitchen ready to tell off whoever was calling only to see the face of Severus Snape looking at her.

She blinked a few times and shushed Molly who was still yelling. "Severus?"

"Hello. Do you have time to talk?" He had gotten the idea that he had called at a bad time when he heard the noise in the background and saw Ron running across his field of view every few seconds.

Ginny was intrigued. Snape was flooing her. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "Sure, come on through."

He stepped through and found himself in a pleasant kitchen, surrounded by the noise of children. Ron almost bumped into him. "Have a seat." Ginny gestured to one of the comfortable looking chairs at the table.

"You've redecorated since I was last here." He looked uncomfortable in the din and whirl of activity but sat down.

She went back to placing bits of food in front of JS, who was working on seeing how much of it he could get into his hair, ears, nose, and the floor. "Not exactly, Kreature finally decided to do a really good cleaning job. All of this was here before. We just thought it was black, grey and mud coloured. It turns out this warm brown and gold color scheme was here the whole time, just under at prodigious layer of grime. Harry thinks Kreature was applying new layers of grime at night while we were sleeping. That's why my mum's spells weren't taking care of the mess.

"So what brings you here?"

"I would like to talk to you about designing something for me." Ron was watching him closely. Molly had stopped yelling and was now chewing on her mother's collar. Snape was rapidly thinking about making sure he and Hermione put off children as long as they possibly could.

"Go on," Ginny said.

"A piece of jewellery. I have the stones, but no setting for them." He held the stones cupped in his hand so she could see them. "I understand rings are traditional."

She looked at him and grinned. "You understand rings are traditional? Are you indicating this would be an engagement ring?"

"Yes."

"Hot Damn!" Ron heard her and began chanting 'Hot Damn' while poking at his little brother, who was dropping fistfuls of banana on his head. "Are you free tonight?"

"Yes."

"Come back tonight after dinner. These little monkeys won't give me a moment's peace until they're asleep. But once they are, we can talk, I can sketch, and we can see if we can come up for something for Hermione. "


	29. In Which Ginny Designs Something

Chapter 31: In Which Ginny Designs Something Traditional

When Severus returned to Grimmauld Place, the noise had died down quite a bit. Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table by herself, a sketch pad and pencils next to her. "Would you like a drink? Something to eat?"

"I've already eaten. Something to drink would be appreciated."

"Caffeine or Alcohol?"

He liked her direct train of thought. "Alcohol if you don't mind."

She poured him a glass of what turned out to be scotch neat. He sipped it. "Lovely."

"Firewhiskey may be flashy, but I prefer this for drinking slowly. So, show me the stones now that I've got the time to look at them properly."

He laid them out for her on the kitchen table. She eyed them carefully, touched them, and began arranging them in different shapes. "Tell me what you want to do with them."

"I don't know." He watched her position them in a triangle, the sapphire at the top, the opals on the bottom, points facing out. She looked at him, he shook his head.

"If we were talking about a pendent, I think this would look lovely." She placed both teardrops in a line, points up, with the sapphire at the bottom, and rapidly sketched a pendent around them.

"Would she want a pendent?" He did like the composition she had created. He could see it resting against Hermione's chest, just above the line of her bosom. It might be a good idea.

"She wants a ring."

Ginny tapped her wand against the sketch pad, and the pendent disappeared. "How are you going to get this from a sketch into the real world?"

She continued to play with the stones while he answered, "I was hoping you could help with that as well. If need be I can transfigure the raw materials, but if you know a good jeweller, someone who can take a sketch and turn it into the real thing…"

"Fledding's has done all of our family's pieces. Here, look at this and see if it's up to your standards." She took off her ring, handed it to him, and went back to sketching. He stared at the tiny red and green stones tied together with delicate loops of yellow and red gold.

"It's lovely. I think that level of skill will suffice for what I'll need."

She put it back on, and tapped her wand to remove the sketch she was working on.

"I didn't see that one."

"Trust me; it didn't work."

"Hello, what are you doing in here…?" Harry walked through the door and stopped short to see Severus Snape sitting at his kitchen table chatting with his wife while she drew something for him.

Ginny hopped up, hugged her husband, and spoke, sounding somewhat giddy, "Harry, we're designing Hermione's engagement ring."

"Well, that's just… wonderful." He didn't sound nearly as excited as Ginny, but he did grab a drink, and sat down next to Ginny to see what they had done.

Severus was sure some sort of small talk was called for, but couldn't really think of anything. He passed Harry the stones, "Here's what I've got to work with. Ginny's helping me figure out how to set them."

Harry eyed them, "She loves opals. But she won't buy them for herself because she considers it an unnecessary luxury. How about…" He placed the star sapphire in the middle, with the opals to the left and right, points out. Ginny looked at them, and started drawing very quickly.

She started with an S curve on its side, then did another one pointing the other direction, set so the two largest part of the curves wrapped around the sapphire. The smaller curves enclosed one side of each opal. She then placed two more S curves, smaller ones, starting at the open side of the opals. She continued around the ring, with smaller and more compact S curves until the whole circle was complete. She was shading in the curves, the first two one color, the next two another, and the next ones the original color again.

"You'll want to pick contrasting metals, so that the curves are easily visible." She finished the sketch, and waved her wand over the paper. A 3D version of her drawing began to rotate on the page. "What do you think?"

Snape gazed at it for a long moment. "I think it's perfect. Thank you for drawing it for me."

Ginny looked pleased. She ripped the sketch of the pad and handed it to Snape. He folded it carefully and put it in his pocket. They sat around the table sipping their drinks.

"Do you know how you're going to ask her?" Ginny asked, finishing her drink.

"Not yet. I'm sure I'll know the time when it comes, but I don't know when it'll be yet. As your father reminded me, time is running out, so sooner rather than later." They talked of inconsequential things for a few more moments.

Ginny looked at the clock, 'I've got to get to bed if I'm going to get any sleep before Molly wakes up again. Goodnight." She kissed Harry gently and put an affectionate hand on Severus's shoulder. Both bid her a goodnight as she left the room.

"I should be leaving as well." Snape stood.

"Stick around a bit longer," Harry said, looking unusually, at least in Snape's opinion, thoughtful. Severus sat back down and saw his drink had refilled. He took another sip, and Harry sat quietly. It didn't require Legilimency to see that Harry was having something of a fight inside himself, wanting to speak intimately, but wanting to keep his distance from the Snape of his memory. The desire to talk won out.

"There are five people in the world I love beyond all reason. I know we talked, and then Arthur spoke to you further, but I want you to understand how vitally important Hermione is to me. She is my oldest and dearest friend. She is the sister I never had. We buried Ron together." His voice cracked, and he paused to collect himself. "She deserves a man who loves her devotedly, unconditionally. She deserves someone whose life is centered on her. She deserves to feel that way about her man as well. She deserves happiness."

Severus understood what Harry was saying and spoke to him with his voice low, soft. Harry almost looked startled by it as he began."And the man who felt that way about her, and more importantly, the man she felt that way about, is now dead. And, of course, we do not get what we deserve." _You'd be calling me Dad if I had gotten what I deserved, and Lily would be sitting in that chair next to us if she had gotten what she deserved. _"You are correct, I am not madly in love with Hermione, nor she with me. And I do not know if that will ever be the case. But it's not impossible either. We have a good foundation, both of us fought in the war, we're both intellectuals, we have similar value systems, we've both outlived our dearest beloved, we both understand pain, and we're both ready to start trying a new life. It may not be all roses and hearts, but it's a good place to start."

Harry looked startled. "You?"

"Yes, Potter, me. Hard though it may be to believe, I was once young and deeply in love. So, like Hermione, I know I am capable of feeling that way toward another person. I was loved in return. So, like Hermione, I know how lonely it is to live without it. And, like Hermione, I have been hurt so badly by the loss of that love, that I will do nothing to inflict extra hurt on anyone else." Severus took a swallow of his drink. Harry looked at him carefully, seeing a side of Snape he had never thought could exist. Snape was taken aback by how much Harry reminded him of Lily at that moment; Harry's look of curious wonder was one he had often seen on her face when they worked together.

Finally Harry spoke, "What happened to her?"

Now it was Snape's turn to be quiet. He was well within his rights to tell Harry off for asking. It was private, after all. But he was also the one who had brought it up. He could have been very vague regarding the nature of the pain both he and Hermione shared. _He'll be your brother-in-law soon. Go for a compromise, some truth, but not so much as to shock him._

"She was, despite my warnings, and protections, killed by Voldemort."

"Is that why you became a spy?" After Snape was acquitted he, Ginny, and the other Weasleys had spent many hour discussing Snape's motive. It was the one thing no one knew, and he had refused to answer anything about it during the trial. No one had suspected there was a woman. He couldn't wait to tell Ginny.

"No, I was a spy before she was killed. I became one to impress her."

"We had no idea."

"Which was how I wanted it. Albus knew. No one else needed to."

"That's why he trusted you."

Snape nodded.

"How long ago?"

_Twenty-three years this Halloween. _"More than twenty years ago. Knowing that, will you find me an acceptable suitor?"

Harry looked at Snape, sitting in his kitchen, drinking his scotch, and mimicked Teddy, "You'll do."

A brief conversation about where to find Fledding's Jewellery finished the evening. Harry went to bed, and Snape went home.


	30. In Which Snape Gets A Ring, Almost

Chapter 32: In Which Severus Gets A Ring, Almost

The next day started well for Snape. He had gotten an owl from Mortimer's Potions thanking him for his current work on the problem, along with a cheque to cover his predicted expenses for the next leg of his research.

He had decided that he would go to Fledding's in the morning, get the ring made, stop by Knockturn Alley for a few ingredients, and then head home to work on the potion. Maybe send an owl to Hermione around dinner, see what she wanted to do this weekend.

After he had organized his day, Snape apparated to Fledding's. It was tiny, almost a booth, on the far end of Hogsmeade. No wonder he hadn't seen it before. It also appeared to be closed from the outside. He tentatively put his hand on the door, expecting it to resist his attempt to open it, but it swung silently inward at his touch.

An elderly witch sat behind the counter and wished him a good day.

"Come about a ring, have you?"

"Yes."

"All the lads are coming for rings these days. Let me show you what we have…" She began to shuffle off to the back.

"I'd like you to make a ring for me. I've got it designed, and I have the stones. I need someone to make the setting."

She turned quickly, much more quickly than he would have guessed she was able from the way she had moved off the stool. "Really? Let me see your drawing."

He handed her the paper. She looked at it critically, and made a noise he couldn't categorize. "Let me see the stones."

He handed them over. The witch eyeballed them with careful precision. Taking an eyepiece from some inner pocket, she scrutinized them further.

"We can do it. Let me get some metal samples so we can decide what you want." She hopped off her stool and walked behind the curtain separating the front of the store from the back. A moment later, she returned with several small rectangles of metal.

"You've got cool toned stones, so most people would go with metals in the gray or white color sphere. Silver, white gold, platinum, and titanium will all work with these stones." She placed the stones on each of the rectangles, so he could see how the metal would work with the colours.

"Now, if you want the blue of the sapphire to look bluer, you can use its complimentary color: orange." She moved two metals towards him. "Copper or red gold."

"Or you can go with one of the yellow settings, but..." She placed the stones on a rectangle of yellow gold. "Unless it's really important to you, I wouldn't recommend it. The colours don't do anything for each other."

Snape spent several moments putting the stones between the different metals. Finally he found the combination he liked, platinum and red gold. He explained how he wanted the centre curves to be red gold, and the next set platinum and so forth until the ring was complete.

"We can do that for you. Now let's talk price. Like most of the men who come in here with an idea of what you want, you've got an expensive vision, but do you have the galleons to make it real?"

"Maybe. Name your price." She looked at him carefully. _The gall!_ The old lady was trying to use Legilimency on him to get a better idea of how much she could charge him. She was good at it, too. Most wizards wouldn't have noticed. He blocked her, and left her with a little mental nudge not to try that again.

She looked grudgingly impressed. "You're good at this game."

"The best ever."

She didn't look like she believed that, but wasn't willing to challenge him on it, either. "For the custom work and the materials: 1400 Galleons." That was within the price range Harry had told him.

"Done. When can I pick it up?"

"Two months, maybe two and a half."

"Two and a half months?" He was incredulous, and let it show. _I could learn how to make one myself in that time._

She smirked at his unspoken insult and responded, "Yes, but it wouldn't be very good."

"How much to get it faster?"

"You don't have enough money to buy that."

"Try me."

"No one has enough money to buy that. My husband, children, and two grandchildren are working flat out. The market for rings has gone quite hot lately. The one thing money can't buy from us is a broken promise. If your order is moved up, someone else will get theirs late. Get your ring from us in mid-August, buy one of our pre-made ones, or try someone else and get lesser quality work. Your choice."

He spent a moment thinking it over, but in the end he didn't really know where else to go, and mid-August would come soon enough. "How much of a deposit?"

"Fifty percent now, fifty percent when you pick it up." He handed her a letter of credit at Gringotts for his account. She was writing his name on the order slip, when he saw her really see what she was writing. She looked up slowly.

"You weren't kidding about being the best."

"No. But you're quite good yourself. A very light touch."

"Thank you. That's why I run the counter when the rest of my family does the metal work. Very few people understand how useful that skill is to someone in our business. Can I give you some friendly advice?"

He nodded. "Everyone who buys an engagement ring buys two wedding rings. Find out what she wants in a wedding ring and place the order before you get the engagement ring, preferably before July. That's the latest we'll promise to have rings done by the October 31st deadline."

"Good to know." He pocketed the copy of the receipt she handed him.

As he walked out of the Fledding's, ideas ran through his head. Getting down on bended knee and handing Hermione a receipt didn't strike him as immensely romantic, but it looked like that would be the way of it. Maybe he could play it practical, why spend money on frippery, and then surprise her with the ring later? _No, you need 'a token of serious intent' to make the damn thing binding. Give her the picture, idiot!_ He turned around and walked back into the store. "When do you need that picture?"

The old witch looked up. "We won't get started on yours for at least six weeks, Mr Snape."

"I'd like the picture back then. Can I see the metal samples again?"

She detached the picture from his paperwork, and handed him the red gold and platinum rectangles. He studied the colours carefully, and then coloured the sketch. He added the hues of the gems from his memory, and handed the metal samples back.

"I'll bring this back before the first week of July." The old witch smiled. Severus Snape was not the only wizard who would be proposing this month with a sketch of his intended's wedding ring in hand.


	31. In Which We Rejoin Hermione

Chapter 33: In Which We Rejoin Hermione

Her alarm charm went off at 5:30. A word from her stopped the beeping. She lay quietly under the covers wondering why it felt so early. A moment later she realized that the reason it felt so early was that she usually didn't get up for another half hour, and she usually went to bed much, much earlier. Hermione sat up slowly and spent a moment looking at her bed mate. He was curled on his side, facing away from her, and she very much wanted to spoon up against his back, go back to sleep, and in a few hours try some variations on what they had done last night. But duty called.

She got out of the bed and found her clothing. Dressing quietly, she remembered that the reason her alarm was early was that today was a wandless magic day, and that she really needed to talk to Amber, Rose, and Dean and see if they still planned to head to Cleveland to join the Watcher's Council when school ended.

She kissed Snape. He awoke just enough to put some lip into it and appeared fully asleep again by the time she closed the door to his room. The whirling sensation of the floo woke her fully, and by the time she was done with her shower, she was feeling somewhat human. By 7:00 she was seated at her usual spot at the teachers' table in the Great Hall.

Harry sat next to her while she ate her usual oatmeal, toast, and pumpkin juice breakfast. They didn't talk too much. Since Harry started having babies, and not all that much sleep at night, he was much less talkative in the morning.

Toward the end of her meal, when she was getting ready to leave for her Wandless Magic group, she asked, "Will you be seeing Ginny for lunch?"

Harry thought about it. "Yes, it's the first day of O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, so I've got a free period before and after lunch."

"Tell her, 'Hermione says, icing happily eaten.'"

"That's a bizarre code."

"She'll know what it means."

"I should hope so. What next: the Hungarian Ridgeback clucks at two?"

"I only use that one to signal Molly's right around the corner and can hear everything we're saying."

Harry laughed as she headed out. She walked to the Quiddich Pitch, enjoying the sunshine. The day was going to be lovely. And, with it being the first day of exams, she too had more free time than usual. _Well, sort of._ The image of the grading she had been neglecting for more pleasant company sprang to mind. _Still need to come up with the final version of the finals. Rounds tonight and tomorrow night. Battle of Hogwarts Day next Monday; have to get ready for that. Leaving Feast the Monday after that. Graduation Ball that Tuesday. And then it's done for another year._

Her wandless magic students joined her on the Pitch. They gathered around her in a semi-circle.

"I know this is N.E.W.T. week, so if any of you want to skive off for extra study time or sleep, I understand. If any of you intend to stay, I was thinking we'd work on refining our relaxation and focusing skills, both of which should come in handy this week."

Two of the students left. She and the rest of them settled into comfortable positions, and began working on relaxing and clearing the mind of all distractions. While not magic per-se, it was a vital first ingredient to any wandless magic, and very useful for surviving N.E.W.T.s. At the end of the hour, she made an appointment to see Dean, Amber, and Rose later that afternoon to discuss going to the Watcher's Council.

Her third, fourth, and sixth year students were all working on review for their finals next week. So their classes passed swiftly. Sooner than she expected she was sitting in her office with Dean, Amber, and Rose.

"It occurred to me a few days ago that we hadn't talked about you joining the Watcher's Council since the Marriage Act was passed. I wanted to know if our plans needed to be modified in relation to said law."

Amber spoke first: "My plans haven't changed. I still intend to head to America with you, and work on setting up a real school for wanded magic there."

Dean added, "I've got my tools, and I'm ready to head west. My grandfather isn't thrilled that I won't be working for him, but he's happy that I'm not setting up a shop of my own down the road. He won't admit it to me, but my Gran says he likes the idea of the first wand shop in America being an Olivander's."

"Hold up!" Hermione said. Those were much grander plans than anything the Watchers had on offer. "That's a bit further along than I thought we were. Right now the Watcher's are expecting you to join them to help their girls who have magic talent learn how to handle a wand." Hermione was amazed at how far they had taken this idea.

"Which we intend to do, but we read your book," Amber said, looking more and more excited by the moment. "And it sounds like what America needs is some sort of formal schooling for their magical population. We'll start small and go from there. Besides, most of those girls probably have brothers and sisters who will need an education."

"We know it won't be easy to start up, but being part of the Watcher's Council should help quite a bit. I know there won't be a huge demand for wands to begin with, but as they see how easy a wand makes magic and how useful they are, they'll start coming to my door," Dean added.

Hermione looked over at Rose, who had said not a word and wasn't paying any attention to the conversation the rest of them were having. "So quiet, Rose. Are you still intending to head west with us?"

"Maybe." She looked sad. "There's a man, and I don't want to leave him behind. He'll just end up marrying someone else, but he doesn't want to come to the States with me. 'Doesn't like Yanks,' he says. We haven't gotten it worked out yet. When we do, I'll let you know."

Hermione felt at a loss, this was so far outside her area of expertise she didn't know where to start. But Amber chimed in, "If that Benjamin says no, you go to the States with us, and in a week he'll be there after you. He loves you, he's just afraid of something new. He'll go with you, or he'll follow you, don't you worry about it."

Rose continued looking unconvinced.

"Rose, they'd love to have you, but they'll understand if you stay here," Hermione said gently, but it did nothing to dispel the forlorn look on Rose's face.

"How does June 21st sound for a departure date?" Hermione asked, getting back to business.

The teens nodded. "I want you to check with your parents, make sure they're fine with you heading off so soon. If not, come up with a list of alternative dates, and we'll go from there. Also, Mr Snape will be accompanying us on the trip."

The three teens stared at her as if she had just grown a second head. Then the giggling began. Hermione almost rolled her eyes, and then realized exactly how immature that gesture was. "Yes, yes, yes," she snapped, "I'm sure the idea that I have a boyfriend is hilarious. Out you get. Go study for tomorrow's N.E.W.T.s." Her voice was exasperated, yet kind. The students shuffled out of her office.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of rounds and grading. Twenty-five essays done, twenty-five to go. Seventy problem sets done, ten more to go. And so on and so on…

At breakfast the next morning Harry sat next to her and beamed at her. He kept smiling gleefully, until she finally asked, "What has happened to you?"

"Nothing has happened _to me_." He shook his head.

"Okay... What happened near you that has you in such a good mood…" Her mind snapped on an obvious reason. "You did not get Ginny pregnant again! It's too soon! I should slap you upside…."

"Calm down. Ginny will be doing the slapping, among other things, if I got her pregnant only eight weeks after the last one. She's not pregnant. I suppose I walked straight into that by saying it hadn't happened to me."

"So what's all the happiness about?"

"I can't tell you."

"You're going to sit there and glow at me, and then say you can't tell me?"

"Exactly."

"You're evil."

His grin grew even wider. "And yet you love me anyway." They went back to eating breakfast. Her quiet chewing got to him, niggling more than endless questions would have.

"Aren't you going to try and wheedle it out of me?"

"You just said you wouldn't tell me."

"I know, but I want to tell you. But I shouldn't."

Hermione looked exasperatingly pure of intentions. "If you shouldn't tell me, don't tell me."

"You know exactly how to push my buttons."

She smiled smugly. They ate further. Finally, after a few more bites, Harry cracked. "Snape visited us last night."

She raised an eyebrow, fairly sure what was coming next.

"He told me the reason he became a spy for the Order was a woman!" Hermione looked shocked, which worked out well, because Harry took it for shock that Snape had been in love before, instead of shock that Snape had told him about it.

"Can you believe it? A woman! I wonder who it was. He said she loved him back. Who would have loved young Snape? He looked awful in the pensive memories I've seen of him. After all the hours we spent wondering, none of us ever came up with a woman." She could tell he wanted more information from her, but didn't want to ask outright.

"He told me about her shortly after we started dating, but he didn't want me to tell any of you about it. It's part of the reason he was such a bastard when we were at school. A big part. Wait, why are you not supposed to tell me about this?"

"I didn't want you to know I invited Snape over to talk about marrying you." Harry silently thanked Ginny for coming up with that cover story ahead of time. She had told him he was not to ruin the surprise of the ring.

Now her shock was directed where it was supposed to be. "You did what?"

"If he's going to be married to you, I wanted to talk to him about it. I wanted him to understand how important you are to us."

"I thought you guys did that at the Burrow."

"Yes, but I wanted to talk with him one on one."

"How did he do?"

"Fine. Same as at the Burrow. He's not Ron, and he never will be. But, since you won't accept one of us who loves you dearly and already has a wife, he's probably the best of the remaining options. He said he thought you may come to love each other, so I guess there's some hope."

That was an odd phrase. "Hope of what?"

Harry gave her a look of real tenderness and care. "Real joy. A home for you, with a man you love, and children you adore. The things you thought died with Ron. The things I know you wanted, but you stopped expecting."

"You're a good friend Harry." She smiled.

"I bloody well ought to be by this point." He looked smug. "So, he told you about this mystery woman. Did he tell you who she was? What happened to her? He said she was killed by Voldemort, but I got the sense there was more but he didn't want to tell me."

"He did tell me about her; on the condition I never say anything about it again." She stopped. They stared at each other for a moment.

"So, you're not talking then."

"Not on this one. Would you tell me Ginny's secrets?"

"No."

"I'm surprised he told you as much as he did. Maybe one of these years he'll tell you the whole story."

"Years? Must be one hell of a story."

"That's not the half of it." Hermione took another bite of breakfast. It was at that point that Harry decided that some discrete research was in order. He already knew that if Snape's woman had been killed more than twenty years ago, she had been killed during Vold War I. She was killed by Voldemort, so that would narrow it down further. She was impressed by his being a spy, so she wasn't a Muggle or Slytherin. And say she was within five years of Snape's age. It was a start; he'd hit the registry tomorrow, and begin the search.

"Hermione."

"Ermn…" She was reading over her class notes to prepare for her first lecture. Just to make sure she had all of her ideas in place.

"When did Snape become a spy for the Order?"

She looked up and thought about it. "I don't really know. During the seventies. Why?"

"He said he became a spy to impress her."

"Really Harry, let this go…" She saw Harry turn white. "What?"

"Snape was a spy when he gave Voldemort the Prophecy." He sounded very far away.

"Yes."

"Dumbledore knew! He knew, and he let my parents die. He gave my parents to Lord Voldemort." Harry hopped up quickly. "I've got to go."

She knew he was going to have a chat with Dumbledore's portrait. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I've…." He went off. She followed him with her eyes. She hadn't realized that he hadn't put that together yet. Then she realized how much Harry loved her. He let the man who he thought had given Voldemort the information that lead to his parents' murder into his home, and talked civilly with him about marrying her.

After her first class she went to Harry's office. He was sitting at his desk, looking at a piece of paper, but not actually seeing it.

"How are you doing?"

He looked up at her. His eyes were hurt and angry. "I'm so frustrated by this. Every time I think I have a handle on it, something new comes up. My parents were killed by Voldemort. My parents were betrayed by their best friend, Sirius Black, and killed by Voldemort. My parents were betrayed by their other best friend, Peter Pettigrew, who framed Sirius Black, and killed by Voldemort. My parents were targeted by Snape, betrayed by Pettigrew, and killed by Voldemort. Now I've got a whole new one. My mother invented the Prophecy as a trap for Voldemort, used us for bait, Snape set the trap, Pettigrew sprung it, and Voldemort killed my parents. The protection she placed on me; she set it at my birth. Dumbledore says they hoped that they would be tipped off and catch Voldemort on the way to kill my parents, but for once Voldemort didn't want an audience, so the Order didn't know it was going to happen until after. They had hoped to capture him alive, hold him until the Horcruxes were destroyed, and then let a Dementor have him. My mother's protection was the backup plan.

"Apparently Dumbledore didn't think I needed to know this, or that I'd have figured it out on my own, or maybe Snape would have told me, since we're such good chums." He pounded his fist on the desk. She walked behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Every time I think I know the truth, it changes."

"Your mum won Vold War I, then. She's the one who designed Voldemort's downfall."

"Dumbledore said that, too. Why didn't he say it thirteen years ago?"

"What did he say?"

"I didn't ask. It would be some crap about protecting me, or keeping Voldemort from getting the information, or just some of his standard shit. That man never told me anything unless I specifically asked for it, and asked in exactly the correct way. God Forbid he'd let me know something about the past. Something about the lives that came before mine. You know I still don't know what my father did for a living?"

She almost said, "He played Quiddich." She stopped at the last second. She couldn't think of a way to let him know how she knew without saying too much about Snape and Lily.

For the next hour she sat with him, letting him blow off steam, providing what comfort she could. Finally, when she spoke, it was to say, "We've got class. Time to go enlighten the little buggers." Quietly, they walked to their classes.

Harry wasn't at lunch. She hoped he had gone home to be with Ginny. She ate quickly, and returned to her office to write Snape.

_Severus,_

_Harry told me he had you over last night. Thank you for going. I cannot say how happy it makes me that both of you are trying so hard to get along. I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable. He's immensely intrigued by your 'mystery woman.' I have not enlightened him further. _

_He finally realized that you were working for the Order when you gave Voldemort the Prophecy. He has since talked to Dumbledore's Portrait and learned that Lily was the creator of the Prophecy, and that the whole thing had been planed from the start. He's even less thrilled with Dumbledore than usual today. I can't really blame him. That information would have been quite nice to have, not useful necessarily, but nice._

_In other news, we've almost settled on June 21st as the day to head to the Watcher's Council. Can you take a week or so off and join us? If that time doesn't work, give me some alternatives. We'll get something hashed out._

_I have rounds again tonight. Can I see you tomorrow?_

_Hermione_


	32. In Which We Discuss Why Wandless Magic

Chapter 34: In Which We Discuss Why Wandless Magic

Wednesday hadn't worked. Thursday hadn't worked. Late on Tuesday Snape had had an Eureka! moment with his time delay potion formula, and spent the next thirty hours in his lab, working like a fiend. He exited long enough to send Hermione a note to explain what was going on and eat before he collapsed from low blood sugar. Early Thursday morning he crashed on the camp bed he kept in his lab, slept like a rock for eight hours, woke up, scarfed down some food, and went back at it for another fifteen hours. By early Friday he had developed a working prototype for a time delay potion. All it needed now was testing. Lots and lots of testing. All he needed was sleep, lots and lots of sleep. The last thing he did before heading to his bed was to write Hermione, to see if she wanted to see him that night.

They met at her house, and had a very low key dinner, along with discussion about how he had been walking in Hogsmeade when it occurred to him that an obscure African plant, used mainly to thicken an American stew might just do the trick. The next part of the challenge was trying to find okra pods in England. He had been lucky, founding a restaurant that was willing to sell him a pound of them, and from there his research was off.

"All that's left now is the testing phase, but that's not my job. My job was to fix their formula and give them something to test." He was lounging on her couch, facing her, looking deliciously knackered. She placed his feet in her lap and began to rub them firmly. "That feels so good."

"After three days on your feet, I'd think so. What happens next?"

"I bottle it up, send it and my notes off, and deposit the cheque. Then, I look through my list of possible projects, see which one looks best, see if the company still needs my help, and if so begin negotiations. Also, I'll have the time to play with some of my own research. But most of all, I will have the time to go to America and meet your cadre of wandless witches."

"Wonderful. They'll be thrilled. Willow is looking forward to meeting all of you."

"All of us?"

"Amber, Dean, Rose, and Rose's young man, Benjamin, are all moving to Cleveland to start up a Wanded Magic Academy to go along with the Watcher's Council. Officially, we're helping them get settled, and I'm spending some time with Willow working on higher level wandless magic. Unofficially, this is a bit of holiday."

"I didn't know we were heading an expedition."

"Does it make you change your mind?"

He thought about it. "Will we be spending much time with them?"

"No, it's not like we're muggles, flying over on a plane, stuck in the air for twelve hours. The girls at The Council will make them feel at home. I doubt we'll see them for more than an hour or two after we get there."

"I can live with that."

He moaned softly as she pressed her knuckles deeply into the arch of his left foot. He lay with his eyes closed, enjoying her hands on his feet for a few moments. She was sure he was drifting off to sleep when he finally asked, "Why wandless magic?"

"It's a long story."

"I'm not going anywhere."

She sighed deeply. _He told you about Lily. You can tell him about Ron. It might even help. _"What did you know about how Ron died?"

The image of Bellatrix, bloody and cackling, jumped into his head. He had been there, talking with Voldemort when she apparated into the room to let them know that the Weasley boy had been killed and the mudblood tortured. Voldemort had been pleased, which made Bellatrix even less pleasant to be around than usual. He decided Hermione didn't need to know about that. "I knew it happened. Bellatrix bragged about it to several of the others. She and I avoided each other whenever possible. I assumed he died hard when I heard she was the one who killed him, but beyond that…"

"Beyond that…" She didn't want to keep talking. She wanted to run away and hide from the memories. But hiding didn't make anything easier. And he had told her about his first love. She owed him the same honesty. "It was March 1997. We had just learned about the Taboo, but Harry slipped and said Voldemort. He was able to get under his cloak in time. Fred and George were off with Lee Jordan that night broadcasting an episode of Potter Watch. Ginny didn't join us until after Ron had died." Her eyes had a faraway look, focused somewhere beyond him.

"We were taken to Malfoy Manor and given to Bellatrix.

"I guess she decided to do a Longbottom Redux. She wasn't even asking questions; she just went straight for the pain.

"I got to go first. She broke every bone in my right foot, and most of the ones in my left before I passed out. She had Ron in a full Body-Bind, eyes opened, and forced him to watch." She kept her voice flat, as if maintaining her calm could keep the pain of remembering that night away.

"When I woke up she started on him. He decided that the longer he could entertain her, the longer she would play with him, the less pain I would have to face. So he yelled, cursed her, did all he could to keep her interested. A few times it looked like he was on the verge of passing out, but he would wrench his eyes open, and say something to her, and she'd go at him again.

"I don't know how long it lasted, but he got to the point where he couldn't speak anymore. She had broken several of his teeth, and his lips and tongue were bleeding. I was praying that this time he was out. That he'd just lie there, and let her have a go at me. He very slowly lifted his hand, and raised his two fingers.

"Something happened to her. She shrieked and tossed her wand aside, and grabbed a knife. She cut off each of his fingers, and his toes, and had cut through his belt, when Fred and George bust into the room. She looked up, saw them, and apparated out of there before either of them could get a spell off.

"He turned his head to look at me, smiled, and died. George got me. Fred got Ron. We left the house, set fire to it, and apparated back to Bill's house. Harry was already there; he had searched the Malfoy townhouse, and was getting ready to join us when the twins walked in, each one carrying a body. Fleur fixed me up, while the boys cleaned up Ron. We didn't want to take him home to Molly the way he was." The memory of Molly's face, the joy at seeing her children, home for the first time in months, and the horror as she noticed one of them was missing, broke Hermione. She began to shake with her tears. Snape wrapped his arms around her. She snuffled against him for a moment. When she went on her voice was rough, yet determined.

"If I could have gotten my wand, or disarmed her, or apparated us, or let Harry, Fred, or George know where we were… But my wand was across the room, and I couldn't get it to come to me. I couldn't do this." Her wand, which had been sitting on the dining table zoomed to her and stopped inches from her face. She grabbed it. "I will never be without my magic again." She sent her wand back to its place on the table.

He pulled her closer, and rested his chin on the top of her head while she snuggled into him. For a long time they just held each other. She listened to his heartbeat and thought about how much she had missed this closeness, how long it had been since comfort came with a warm embrace and a beating heart.

When she continued, the tears were gone from her voice. "After the war, the idea of wandless magic came to me. It took a year to find the Watcher's Council, and I spent another year with them. Willow was an amazing help. She's been there, too. Her mate had been killed a year before Ron, so she understood where I was and why I was there. By the time I left her, I had a handle on the basics and had begun to find my way out of deep mourning."

He stroked her hair and placed a kiss on her forehead. For a few more minutes, he held her quietly. Then she said to him, "Thank you."

His eyebrows drew together. "For what?"

"For not saying anything. For not telling me it wasn't my fault, or that there was nothing I could have done, or some other trite thing I already know, but can't always convince myself is true."

He kissed her forehead. "It never helps. Hell, Dumbledore told me that Lily created the Prophecy, waited a year, no babies who fit the description were born, so she and Alice Longbottom decided to bait the trap themselves, and it still didn't help. I was still the one who gave him the Prophecy.

"We live in our own little worlds, the centre of our own universes, so of course on some level we are responsible for all that happens within our sight. I think Muggles must have an easier time dealing with this because the idea of 'you can't' is so much more real to them. When you see something you really can't change, you realize there must be more than just you. But how often do _we_ run into something we really can't change?" He shook his head, blinked, and spoke again."I must be tired; I'm usually not this philosophical."

"Well, my tired man, how about we get you to bed?"

She stood and offered him her hand. He took it but looked doubtful, "I don't think I'm up for anything other than sleep."

"Neither am I, but a warm body to share my bed with would be lovely."

They walked up to her room, settled down into a comfortable cuddle, and said goodbye to the waking world.


	33. In Which We Discuss Particulars

Chapter 35: In Which We Talk Particulars

Hermione woke to the pleasant sensation of a warm person pressed against her. She stretched, and he shifted a bit, which then brought the less than pleasant sensation of prickly chin stubble pressed against her shoulder.

A glance at the clock showed it was 7:38. Later than her usual wake up time, but from what she guessed, quite a bit earlier than Snape's. She got out of bed and did her normal morning routine quietly so as not to wake him. An hour later she was showered, dressed, and debating about what to have for breakfast. Five minutes perusal of her kitchen showed that she had a fine collection of secondary ingredients but no primary ones. Unless she wanted to make tea or stewed spices, she needed to head out. She left a note for Severus on the bathroom mirror, hoping he'd find it there, and went to the market.

Saturday mornings in early summer meant the farmer's market would be open and filled with goodies from the local countryside. She didn't have to be back at Hogwarts until noon on Sunday. _So you'll need up to four meals worth of food. _She browsed about the stalls, grabbing tasty looking morsels, not really thinking about how to put them into a meal. _We both like to cook; we'll figure something out._

Leaving the market with various bags, she strolled by a bakery. Warm, bready smells called gently to her, drawing her within. A few minutes later she left with pastry for breakfast and bread for lunch, dinner, or both.

Walking home, it occurred to her that she had a whole day, with Severus, ahead of her. A whole day with nothing planned. Just lots and lots of time. She began to feel mildly panicky. What would they do all day long? A wicked thought danced into her head. _Well, that's an hour, maybe two tops. That still leaves a lot of time left over._ Was it okay if she wanted to read for a few hours? Would he just amuse himself? What if they ran out of things to talk about?

_Stop dithering! You know what's really bothering you: does he fit into your life? Are you willing to fit him in? And what kind of changes have to be made in going from me to us? What is he going to expect? Is he a cat: can I just leave him some food, pet him on occasion, and he'll take care of himself, or a child: in need of constant attention?_

_Hermione, you are being an arse! He can amuse himself. He can take care of himself. He's been doing the-on-his-own-thing longer than you have been alive. Calm down and be rational about this. It's one day of unscheduled time. You'll find things to do, and it will be fine. If you totally run out of things to talk about, you can start on wandless magic lessons._

_But it's not one day. It's the rest of our lives. It's saying goodbye to my life._

_It's saying goodbye to loneliness. Plus, it's hello to conversations that keep your mind active and happy. Hello to sex that isn't in your dreams. Hello to a future you had all but ruled out._

_Hello to having a future ripped away from me again._

_That's not going to happen again._

_But it could. He's older than you. And had a hard life. And lots of people still think he's evil._

_And he could get hit by a motorcycling nun tomorrow on the way home from your place. No guarantees in this life. But it's not likely to happen. You've spent seven years ensuring that you won't get hurt again; that's long enough. Take the risk girl. You're a Gryffindor, damnit! You stood by Harry's side day in and day out until the final battle. You faced Voldemort! You faced Bellatrix Lestrange! You can face this as well._

She realised she was standing in front of her door and was unaware of how long she had been there. Feeling somewhat foolish, she unlocked the door and went to the kitchen to unload her groceries. She listened carefully at the foot of the stairs but didn't hear any sounds from above.

Hermione unpacked the fruit and pastries and put them on plates. She debated coffee or tea and went with coffee. The pastries were chocolate and hazelnut; they would blend with the richness of coffee better. She washed the berries and placed them in a bowl. The clotted cream went into a bowl next to them. She arranged the bowls in a pleasing circle on her dining table and set some music to playing. _Never let it be said that I cannot set a nice table in the face of uncertainty! _She heard her shower turn on and glanced at a clock: 9:14. _Finally! That man is not a morning person. How on earth did he survive teaching for so long?_

Twenty minutes later he was showered, dressed, shaved, and sitting at her table, munching a strawberry.

She sipped her coffee, and noticed he was in last night's clothes. "Do you want to keep some clothing over here? Pyjamas and some comfy things?"

He smiled up at her, chewing a bite of pastry (He had gone straight for the hazelnut). "I thought you would have figured it out after our first nocturnal meeting. I don't wear pyjamas."

"I had wondered if that was your normal sleep habit, or if I had just showed up at exactly the right time."

"My normal routine. After leaving Azkaban, I didn't see much need for them, and now I find them somewhat uncomfortable. They get tangled in the sheets. However, I would like to keep some things here, and I imagine you'd find it convenient to do the same at my place."

"Yes, as nice as your dressing gown is, I'd rather wear my own clothes." They were quiet for a bit, both aware of what they were tip-toeing around.

Finally, as she nibbled a chocolate pastry, he said, "I guess the real question isn't: 'will we keep some things at each other's home?' It's: 'whose home are we going to live in?' I'll admit I'm rather attached to my cottage. Actually, I'm quite attached to my lab, but in that it's located in the back garden of the cottage, I don't see how to keep the one without the other."

"I like this house, but I'm not particularly attached to it. Moving would not bother me too much. Is your home able to hold two, or, well, since the whole point of this law is to make babies, more people in it?"

"With some creative remodelling it would work. Adding extra rooms aren't quite the problem it would be if we were Muggles. Doing it in such a way that my neighbours don't talk is another story, but I'm sure we can figure a way to do it."

"So, your place. How soon do you want to do the move?"

"How about after America? I know the last weeks of school are hectic, and this way you don't have to be bothering with packing, moving, selling your place, and finals, grading, Leaving Feast and Graduation."

Hermione thought for a moment. "That will work. I suppose this is our practical considerations conversation. I should come out a bit ahead on this place. I'm not worth a lot, but I'm not in debt either, besides the mortgage I mean. You know what we make at Hogwarts."

He nodded. "I'm also not in debt. The cottage is mine, free and clear." She could see him doing the mental math, "I'm worth about 3.7 million."

She blinked, and blinked again. His book hadn't sold that well. Every wizard in the world could have bought a copy, and he still wouldn't have made that kind of money. Finally words formed. "Pounds or galleons?"

"Galleons. Unless we're talking about real estate, groceries, or cookware, I think of money in terms of galleons."

Hermione did the math in her head and whistled softly. "I've got to ask, how did you make that much money? I could teach at Hogwarts until the end of time and not make that kind of gold."

"Raves. In my spare time, I make designer drugs for the party circuit." Hermione looked aghast. Then she noticed the grin trying to break free on his face and began to smile herself. "Nothing sinister. Spinner's End is located in a part of London that gentrified. The Princes bought that house around the turn of the last century. I sold it when the values went sky high. I made some on the book. More on my potions work. If I accept a project, and it looks like it will sell, I take expenses plus a percentage, instead of a straight fee. Last year I got saddled with taking care of the Malfoy fortune, which pays me a stipend to keep Draco in line. Not that he needs it, but since he was fifteen when the will was drawn up, Narcissa and Lucius didn't know what kind of man he'd become… Anyway, I've shadowed a few of his investments, and they've paid off well. Add in compound interest and…"

"And you've hit the point where you couldn't spend it all in one lifetime if you tried."

He nodded."That said: here's something else that's important. I grew up poor: wearing my mum's hand-me-downs during inconvenient growth spurts, poor. When the mill closed, my father didn't find a real job for another ten years, long after they had divorced. My mother rarely had work that did more than keep us fed and pay for the second-hand school books she couldn't give me from her own collection. So I live well below my means. I don't think that will ever change."

Hermione could understand that. She'd seen enough of the tabloid stories of the well off and useless. "I think that's healthy. I don't want to be a posh, pampered pet, and I don't want that for my children, either. I'm happy with being firmly middle class, no matter how much is sitting in the bank."

She thought about it. "Well, okay, I like the occasional splurge." Visions of clothing she had only looked at in the past danced in her head. "Well, maybe the not so occasional splurge." Places she had always wanted to see but had put off as too expensive came into her mind's eye. "Maybe upper middle class…"

She began to giggle. Gold spoons, leather bound books, goblin made jewels, designer shoes in every color, and world class food, all entered her mind. "Oh, to hell with it, let's move to Patagonia and live like lords!" She broke out into full laughter.

Snape sat and watched her go through this transformation. He was beginning to get a bit alarmed when she stopped laughing, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm back. Really, middle class. Way to go. I just needed to get that out of my system." One more giggle escaped. "I'll get used to the idea of having real money at some point. Oh, it's probably not a good idea to let my parents know you're more than comfortable. My mom will start hitting you up for her charities, and I'm not saying charity is a bad thing, but she's got a new one each week, and some sound pretty dodgy."

"Are there good causes especially dear to your heart?"

"Several, but most are in the muggle world, organizations that give micro-loans, and one that works on fighting malaria. In our world, I give to St. Mungo's and the Hogwarts Orphan Fund. How about you?"

"I'm not sure if it's mandatory, but it does seem like everyone with a bit extra gives to St. Mungo's, and I'm not an exception to that rule. Beyond that, several muggle charities of the sort that specialize in helping the laid-off find new skills and jobs. My father's life would have been better had he been able to find someone to teach him how to do something new, rather than sit about, drinking with his mates, lamenting the loss of a job that made him feel like he had some sort of value." Snape's eyes grew darker at memories of a man, now long dead, and how his whole world, tenuously held together in the first place, fell apart when his job vanished.

Hermione saw the reaction and decided to try and jolly him. "Well, my mom is the kind of person who will ask for money to Save the Spotted Whales one week, and combat Global Warming the next, and raise awareness of the plight of psoriasis among albino pygmies, the week after that."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "What is a Spotted Whale?"

"That would be my point about some of her charities seeming a bit dodgy. Likewise, I'm not sure albino pygmies have a problem with psoriasis."

"But if your mother has anything to do with it, we will soon know."

"Exactly. We've done money, so I guess that leaves politics and faith. Which do you want to tackle next?" She added sugar and cream to her coffee and sipped it while he responded.

"Politics?"

"Suits."

"I don't really follow muggle politics, beyond the occasional casual glance at the tabloids during my grocery runs."

"If only I could be so lucky. My parents are somewhere between hard line Labour and Greens. The sort who think Maggie Thatcher is evil and Blair a traitor to the cause."

Snape winced and then said, "Maggie didn't win any popularity contest down around Spinner's End. You didn't have to follow Muggle politics to know that. How about our world: Modern or Merlinist?"

"Modern."

He looked surprised. "I would have pegged you for a Merlinist."

"Because I helped Harry overthrow Voldemort?"

"Well, yes. That and your worshipful attitude about Dumbledore."

"Until the last year of the war, I was a Merlinist, but after too much Dumbledore I became a Modern. That last year destroyed the Church of Saint Albus for all of us on the Horcrux hunt. Do I take it you're a Modern?"

"Yes, yes, yes, I got to spend too much time with our last Merlin and his dark mirror Mordred, to ever want one man running things behind the scene. Not that I'm saying I love the Ministry, I don't, but…"

"Yeah, but… No telling who the next Chosen One might be, and if he/she'd be any good at it. It's funny; before that last year, we were all convinced that the Ministry was run by a bunch of morons. Then I finally got to see what Dumbledore's real plan was, and hell, it wasn't much better. The choice of 'pretend there's no problem' and 'let a bunch of seventeen-year-olds fix it' isn't much of a choice. At least the Ministry decided to change course and try something new.

"It was quite a shock that last year to find out that Dumbledore had been playing his cards so close to the vest that we didn't even know what game he was playing. We all assumed there was a plan, that Harry just hadn't told us yet, but as soon as we were on our way… But no. The whole plan was, 'Go find the Horcruxes, good luck!'"

Severus took a sip of his coffee. "I didn't learn about the Horcruxes until I was in Azkaban awaiting trial. They let me read the Prophet, and that's where I found out about them. If I had known what needed to be done, I certainly wouldn't have stood there and let Nagini bite me. I'm sure I could have gotten the location of the cup out of Narcissa or Bellatrix if I had known. But no, my job was to keep Hogwarts safe, something Minerva could have done better, and let you three go and flounder about in the woods looking for Horcruxes."

"You got us the sword."

He shrugged. "I know that helped you, but Dumbledore could have gotten you the sword at any time. He could have had it safe at Grimmauld Place, waiting for you, long before he died." They sat quietly thinking about that horrible year. Hermione decided to change the subject.

"So, that leaves religion."

"Agnostic leaning towards athiest. I'm not convinced God doesn't exist, but I'm pretty sure of it."

"Ethical Monotheist."

He gave her a curious look. "I haven't heard of that one before."

"Most people haven't. I believe in the God of the Old Testament."

"You're Jewish?"

"Kind of. I like their theology, and system of laws and, and understanding of the role of man and the divine, and the nature of sin and forgiveness. But since I was never Jewish, I'm not required to keep Kosher, or take Friday nights off, or the like. I used to debate converting, but I came to the conclusion that I could be an excellent Ethical Monotheist, or a mediocre Jew. And, as you know, I try very hard not to be mediocre."

"I do know that. So is there anything special that goes with Ethical Monotheism?"

"Like church attendance or holidays? No."

"How did you find this path?"

"After wandless magic, I was still looking for something. So I spent a good deal of time in philosophy, but that didn't do much for me, and from there to religion. I started with Christianity, because that's how I was raised, but the main tenant of Christian faith is forgiveness, and I just don't have it in me to forgive Voldemort or Bellatrix. One day I was in a bookstore and found what looked like the answer: _Why Do Bad Things Happen To Good People._ It wasn't the answer, but it led me to some new questions, and some new writers. Five years later, I'm an Ethical Monotheist. I've got a shelf devoted to the books I thought were most useful upstairs."

They were both quiet, munching the last of the breakfast pastries.

After swallowing her bite Hermione said, "So, I guess this is the part where we'd normally talk about kids."

"Normally, I'm not really a kid person."

She pressed her hand against her chest. "No! I'm shocked."

His grin was sharp. And then faded into an earnestness she hadn't seen from him before. "I know I'm not the one who will bear most of the cost of having a kid. If you want to leave for a while, put them off, I'll go with you. If you want to start off married life pregnant, I'll stop taking my potion."

"Which wouldn't do much because I'll still be taking mine. I'm not sure how soon I want them, but I do know the answer is a resounding, 'Not yet!'"

"We have until October 2005 to figure it out. No real rush." He took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. "Shall we marry, then?"

"Yes, I think we shall."

He smiled broadly. "Care to seal the deal?"

A/N: Chapter 36: In Which We Seal the Deal is located in A Proper Romance The M Chapters.


	34. In Which We Enjoy The Rest of Saturday

Chapter 37: In Which We Enjoy Saturday

Snape lay on his side and watched Hermione nap. She was lying on her stomach, her head turned toward him, a sheet covering her from the very low back down. Her hair was draped over her left shoulder, covering her arm in a fluffy, brown mass.

He was feeling immensely satisfied with himself. He hadn't planned the way the marriage conversation went, but it had worked to his advantage. They could go and get the matching rings as soon as they wanted to, and he could keep the engagement ring for exactly the right time.

_I need to let Ginny and Harry know the plan. I don't want them to tell her about it before I actually give it to her. _

He stretched, sat up, and padded over to her book case. The one case was entirely magical works. Three whole shelves on wandless magic! One shelf on Arithmancy. The other two were a mix of magical history and defence. He found a copy of his book and smiled. He picked it up and saw that it had actually been read all the way through! His smile widened. He knew from lurking about Flourish and Blotts with a different face that many people had bought his book, and very few of them had read much past chapter three. He understood why. They had expected lurid tales of Dark Revels and heinous magics. Instead he wrote about the in-group/out-group dynamic and xenophobia.

He walked to the other shelf and found her collection of Muggle books. Lots of philosophy, more religion, and some books he thought of as 'self help.' Some Muggle science, which he thought was a bit odd, sat next to half a shelf of anatomy and physiology, also strange. He crouched on the floor to see what was on the bottom shelf. Fiction. Mostly mysteries and historical pieces, but there were a few romances sprinkled among the heavier works.

He spent a pleasant moment debating between a one of her wandless magic texts or the first book from the series about the Napoleonic wars. He grabbed both of them, and settled in her chair by the fireplace. He started with the fiction, and was amused to see the hero had black hair and eyes, and a long scar that made him look like he had a constant scowl. But like most fiction, he began to get bored a few chapters in, so he switched to the wandless magic.

Hermione awoke an hour or so later, and found a naked Snape sprawled in her chair, rapidly devouring one of her wandless magic books. She saw her copy of _Sharpe's Rifles_ on the floor next to Snape. It didn't surprise her that he hadn't fallen in love with the book right off the bat, but she was surprised that he had taken it over and tried a bit of it. She couldn't see the title of the book he was reading, but from the shape, size, and the location of the gap in her bookshelf, she guessed it was _Practical Magic for Beginners_.

He didn't look up as she stood and walked towards him. She marvelled at how comfortable he looked. She wasn't sure she could read naked without constantly being on the alert for something to disturb her. _You've been at Hogwarts too long. Someone's always stopping by, or popping a head in the floo, or in need of help. Try to read naked there, and within ten minutes everyone at the bloody school will know about it._

She was less than a foot away from him when he looked up. "Good nap?"

"Yes. I'm thinking I could get used to this. Wake up, have a nice walk, good breakfast, decent conversation, bit of a shag, and a nap."

"What do you mean, a 'bit of a shag'?" He pulled her into his lap and began to tickle her. "How much shagging do you require before it counts as a full shag?" He was laughing.

"At least an hour, maybe two or three, depends on the day." Her grin was huge, and she was trying to tickle him back, but he wasn't co-operating. He had her hands held tightly in one of his.

"Merlin's beard, woman! I'm not a machine," he said melodramatically. He lowered his lips to hers, and began to kiss her. She squirmed encouragingly in his lap.

"Then I guess I'll just have to get used to bits of shag." They kissed again, his hands releasing hers, and wrapping around her waist.

He pulled his lips away from hers. "Are you hungry?"

"I wasn't until you said anything, but now that I think about it, yes, actually."

"Good, because I'm famished."

She hopped out of his lap, looked for her t-shirt, grabbed it, and her panties, and put them on.

Snape walked to his wand. "I'll be back in a minute." And apparated out of her home. She was in the kitchen looking at the things she had purchased at the market that morning. The bread and cheese would make a good foundation for lunch. The asparagus would probably be more of a dinner food. She was eyeballing the tomatoes when she heard the pop that told her he was back.

A few seconds later, a now dressed Snape walked into her kitchen with a bag. "I thought we might find some uses for these as well."

She opened the bag and saw olives, prosciutto, some sort of dried sausage, more bread, and figs.

"I think we can indeed find something to do with these. Did you know I got asparagus at the market?"

"No, but it'll go great with the ham."

"So will the figs."

"That's what I was thinking."

They busied themselves in her kitchen. Hermione prepared the asparagus, while Snape sliced the bread. He cleared off the breakfast dishes and set the table for lunch. She marvelled at how well they were working together. She had cooked with Harry, and with her sisters-in-law in Molly's kitchen, but never this smoothly before. In her experience team cooking meant that someone was going to get a foot stepped on, everyone who needed salt would need it at exactly the same moment, and no matter how many knives and cutting boards there were, one more was always needed. Granted, she and Snape weren't doing anything terribly complicated, he was wrapping figs in ham behind her while she plated the olives and cheese, but still, this was a choreographed ballet compared to her usual experiences.

They sat down and tucked in. Neither one spoke for several moments. After the sharp hunger had been sated, they began to talk again.

"I was reading one of your wandless magic books."

"I saw."

"I find myself wondering why we bother with wands. Why are you going to teach wanded magic to those girls? Wandless seems much more useful."

"Wandless obviously has its advantages, but it also has some serious drawbacks. You'll probably pick it up pretty easily, because it's all about the utilization of will and concentration. For the girls, and this isn't any kind of disparagement of them, but it's often just too hard to hold that kind of concentration while fighting. You'll probably see some of them sparring, and it's staggering to see that level of physical prowess. Then try to imagine doing it, while simultaneously keeping up the level of concentration necessary to cast even the most basic spell without a wand.

"A wand makes the magic easier to control. It works two ways, a swish and words to cast the spells, and it acts as a buffer between the magic and you. Too much magic, of too high a level, on all but the strongest mind, drives people insane. That's why we're Witches and Wizards rather than Sorcerers or Mages. The wand is our tool of choice, and it keeps us from going batty and terrorizing the local villages.

"On the flip side, it makes us vulnerable to the loss of our tool. And the madness of the magic is often a key ingredient in very powerful magic. The kind we usually cannot use. Compared to the States there are almost no demons here, and it's because almost everyone with any skill with magic uses a wand. The magic will allow the creation of creatures of such malevolent evil that it staggers the mind, but the mage who wields that kind of magic is almost always three quarters insane by the time he can do it.

"One of these days I'll get to start on the research project I've wanted to do for quite a while, and that's the book on how we became Witches and Wizards rather than Mages or Sorcerers. How we learned that the wand provides a safety net. Does this discovery predate Hogwarts, or is it the reason Hogwarts was started? Then take the time to compare our magical world to the one in the States."

Snape was placing a slice of ham on one of the pieces of bread. "Why are there no wands among the Yanks? They used to be transplanted Englishmen. They come from our magical traditions."

"This is the part of the research I have done. It's pretty cool, in a morbid way. The very first Americans, the Amerindians, were powerful magic users, but of an unwanded school of magic. Then they ran into the Spanish, and most of them died from diseases they didn't know how to combat. Something like seventy-five percent of them died in less than fifty years. They hit the point where the old Shamans were dying off, but very few new ones were being born. When we got there almost all of the local magical talent had died off. But none of ours came over. Comfortable, happy people don't cross oceans in leaky wooden boats to face uncertain futures and great hardship. Magic makes life easier, so almost all of us stayed home. No reason to leave. Then came the wars with them, where we didn't head over because they were the ungrateful traitors. Then came our wars with the continent, where we didn't head over because too much was going on over here.

"Add in the fact that you need a certain amount of magical population around for muggles to start giving birth to wizards, and well... For a long time there just wasn't much of any magic going on in the Americas."

"By the time any great number of European witches and wizards were thinking about emigrating, a new hybrid of the Amerindian magic, European mysticism, and American religion had all mixed together to create their system, if system it can be called, of magic. From what I can tell, it's only been since the Great War that all the varieties of English speakers have started to let each other know what they can do with magic.

"One of these days, I'll get to see how the Aussies and Canadians have stacked up to us and the U.S. Maybe I'll write the great comparison of magic among English speakers world over."

He smiled at her. "I'd read that book." He swallowed the fig he had been munching on. "So, what about Willow? You've said she's very powerful; is she half way to mad as well?"

"I don't think so. I've heard some things that hint she was there shortly after her lover was killed, but she seems sane enough now. My guess is that if she was over the edge, it was grief and not the magic that did it, but I don't know, and I don't fancy asking."

They quietly ate for a few more minutes, before Snape began to ask her specifics about the research she wanted to do. That got them to the end of lunch and then some, while they bounced ideas about for where to look and whom to ask. Their conversation drew to a close, and Snape changed the subject.

"So, what is your schedule like for the next week?"

"I'm due back at school by noon tomorrow. I'm on lunch duty along with Neville and some of the others. Monday is Battle of Hogwarts Day, so no class. Then we've got finals. Most of next week will be spent trying to sort through the writing of my students and see which ones have actually remembered what I've been trying to teach them. You know how that works. Then the Leaving Feast and the Graduation Ball. And once more another year will be over, and I'll be free for ten weeks!"

"Would you like me to come to Battle of Hogwarts day with you?"

"I would, but as I said before…"

Snape cut in. "I'll admit I have no interest in listening to Shacklebolt pontificate about the great sacrifices and losses, blah, blah, blah. I know more about that, first hand, than anyone could ever express in a thousand years of speeches."

Hermione winced in sympathy. The first Battle of Hogwarts day had been excruciating. Everyone and his cousin tried to find a way to lend meaning to what had happened, and tame the grief, by steeping it in words. But it had been getting a bit better every year since.

"It's not like that anymore. At the fifth anniversary he said that all that could be said had been said, and there was nothing he could add. Now it is a day of quiet mourning and reflection and celebration. At noon the names of everyone who died in both parts of the war is read out. Usually sometime after lunch it goes from sombre to something like a huge Irish wake. Everyone abandons their usual house colours, wearing the black of the school and armbands in the colours of whomever they lost during the war. The first year it was an armband per person, but some people, Harry for example, ended up without enough sleeve to fit everyone. So now it's just one band per house. White roses show up around the school in the different places where people died. Usually we get together at Fred's spot near the Room of Requirement, and then go to where Remus and Tonks died. Teddy is still a bit too young to really get it, but we want him to know about his parents.

"This is the last year that there will be no class for the whole day because this is the last year that any of the students were still at the school when the Battle was fought. Next year, there'll be some sort of service that night.

"Does that sound like something you'd be willing to attend?"

"Yes, it does. What do you want to do with the rest of today?"

"Usually when I'm home I just lie about, read, watch the shows I taped during the week, maybe go see a movie, or visit with Harry."

"What shows did you tape?"

"Whose Line is it Anyway, Dr. Who, and CSI."

"I like Dr. Who." He grinned sheepishly, as if afraid to admit that he watched TV.

"Really?" Hermione asked. He nodded at her. "Well then, do you feel up for spending some time laying about watching TV?"

"I think I do," he responded.


	35. In Which Old Ghosts Are Put To Rest

Chapter 38: In Which Old Ghosts Are Laid To Rest

Snape sat on his bed and fingered a piece of cloth. He had on his black professorial robes, and one arm band, the one he had been able to create without a thought, already adorned them in red and gold splendour.

He was fingering the other piece of cloth, the green and silver of his own house slid between his fingers. He wasn't sure how appropriate it was to wear the colours of his own house. The people he had lost had died of their own bad choices. But they were his friends, or as close as he had had, and they were just as dead as any of the others who had died during the war.

Hermione stood at his mirror, looking at her own armbands critically. Red and gold, perfectly straight sat atop yellow and black. He stood up and attached the green and silver strip of fabric to his own sleeve. He held her from behind, his chin resting upon the top of her head.

"Who was your Hufflepuff?"

"Tonks."

"I had forgotten she was a Hufflepuff. For some reason, I tend to think of the Order of the Phoenix as being all Gryffindors."

"Most of us were." She turned to face him, laying her fingers on his Slytherin armband. "Who were your Slytherins?"

"Lucius, Narcissa, and Regulus."

"That's why you spent so long staring at it before you put it on?"

He nodded. "Narcissa was an easy choice. She wasn't a Death Eater, and she did everything she could to safeguard her family. I tried to get her out of England, out of the range of the Death Eaters, but she wouldn't leave her men. Then Bellatrix imperiused her…" His eyes went unfocused with a look she now knew meant he was seeing a view of the past.

After a moment he spoke again: "I was thinking of Lucius and Regulus. They were both Death Eaters. Lucius agreed with most of Voldemort's plans, and the ones he didn't like he was willing to accept as the price for an even more exalted position in our society. He was probably the least secure man I ever met. Money, fame, a beautiful wife, parents who doted on him, a child he adored, and he still wanted more. He needed someone to be better than, and Voldemort gave him that. On the flip side he was always kind to me. He took an interest in me from my first day at Hogwarts. He was the one who bought me a broom so I could play Chaser for our team. While he was at Hogwarts he made sure that Potter's group didn't get many chances to gang up on me. They were happy to go after me, when it was four to one their favour, but when Lucius was around, they'd leave me alone." He shook his head, memories of playing Wizard Chess in the Slytherin common room, Lucius always played white, collided with his most recent memories of Lucius, locked in Azkaban, insanely babbling, asking for Cissy, and begging him to keep her and his son safe. "After they re-built Azkaban he was in the cell across from mine. He never recovered from the fact that Bellatrix had imperiused Narcissa to blow up herself and the Ministry of Magic.

"Regulus had been closer to my age. He was a year behind us. What started as a mutual loathing of Sirius became something close to a friendship. But, beyond Sirius and Quiddich, we didn't have much in common. Regulus was not what you'd call bright. Both Lucius and I recommended he not become a Death Eater. Not that brains was a requirement, as I'm sure you noticed, but he didn't have the proper level of Pure Blood Superiority. But he was a Black, so he we welcome. His mother went bonkers after Sirius left, loading every ounce of pressure she could on Regulus to make sure that he was a proper Black, so he joined up after we both told him it was a bad idea.

"Then one day Regulus didn't show up when we were called. We never saw him again. And by that point, we knew better than to ask questions."

"I know what happened to him," Hermione said. Snape raised an eyebrow. Curious, but not entirely sure he wanted to know this many years later. He nodded anyway. It was better to know.

"Voldemort used Kreacher to test the cave he hid the locket Horcrux in. Kreacher was almost killed, so Regulus went to the cave, stole the Horcrux, and died doing it."

Snape digested that. Then, after a quiet moment, said, "That's exactly why Lucius and I told him not to join. Real Death Eaters weren't the kind of people who died to avenge an injury to a House Elf. Real Death Eaters were the kind of people who usually didn't know the names of their House Elves. Hell, a lot of the Death Eaters would have wanted to watch for the fun of it. That's one thing in Lucius' favour: he wasn't a good man, but he wasn't cruel just for the fun of it either."

Hermione looked incredulous. His description didn't exactly match with her view of Lucius Malfoy. He continued speaking, "You didn't really know any of the Death Eaters. By their standards I was a soft and fluffy bloke, tolerated only for my immense competence and access to the Order. Lucius was a moderate. Bellatrix was what they wanted to be."

Hermione shuddered and changed the topic. "Are you ready to leave?"

Severus looked at his armbands one more time. "Yes, let's go."

They joined the herd of Weasleys near the Room of Requirement. Somehow the castle remembered who had died where and produced white roses for all those who had died defending it. Molly, as she did every year, added a red rose for Ron. They were quiet, the sharp edges of grief had begun to dull, but the pain was still there.

Hermione stood near the back of the group: Harry and Ginny on one side, Snape on the other. Severus stood next to her, an arm wrapped around her shoulder, his chin resting on the top of her head. For the first time since March of 1997, Hermione had a shoulder of her own to cry upon. And cry she did, softly, for two lives that had ended much too soon, and for all the dreams that had died with them. As her tears slowed she felt cleansed. For the first time the joy of her time with Ron was outweighing her sorrow for his loss.

As they began to move to the place where the Lupins died, Harry held back. He gestured for Snape to stop with him. Hermione squeezed his hand and continued on with the rest of the group. Snape stopped a few feet from Harry.

Harry looked at him oddly, as if he was really seeing Snape for the first time. "Tell me about my mother. I know she was your woman."

Snape's eyes widened very slightly. If Harry hadn't been looking for some sort of tell, he would have missed it.

"Hermione didn't tell me anything; I worked it out for myself."

Snape raised one eyebrow, not quite sure what to say to that.

Harry pointed to Snape's sleeve, "You're wearing Gryffindor colours. I doubt it's for Albus. Maybe it's to honour the rest of us, but I'm thinking it's for her. You told me you became a spy to impress her, so she wasn't a Slytherin or a Muggle. You told me Voldemort killed her during the first war; there were only three women your age he personally killed. And only one of them was a potions whiz. Only one of them was in the Pensieve memory you didn't want me to see. Only one of them stood up for you against my father and his friends. Only one of them was a member of the Order." Harry was looking very intently at Snape.

Snape sighed. He gestured Harry to a secluded alcove where they could sit and talk. "What would you like to know?"

"All I know about her is that she was brave, good at Potions, came up with the Prophecy idea, and loved me enough to step in front of a killing curse for me. I know I have her eyes. What do I want to know? Everything else." Snape could see Lily sitting on the arm of Harry's chair, looking at both of them with great fondness. _You two should have done this long ago. _Her voice echoed in his head.

Snape's eyes grew soft in a way that Harry had never imagined could happen. His voice lost its harshness. Harry wondered why Snape appeared to be looking slightly to the left of him. "She was funny. And bright, not just smart, but she lit up a room when she walked into it. Your Ginny reminds me of her. They have a similar way of looking at the world, and a similar physical appearance.

"We worked on Potions, Occlumency, and Legilimency together. She was better at Legilimency, I was better at Occlumency, and we were evenly matched on Potions. Many of the notes my Potions book were hers. Levicorpus was hers.

"We were friends from the time we were seven. I was the first person who told her she was a witch. She used to drive her sister crazy by doing things that the sister couldn't do. It made her so jealous.

"She was a great comfort to me. My family life was not exactly easy, and she was always there to listen to me, or just be with me. She was a comfort to anyone who was within her sphere. She had a way of making anyone who got close to her feel happy, better, accepted." Snape's voice lowered. It seemed like he was talking to himself, as if he had forgotten Harry was still there. "She was home." His eyes snapped back into focus on Harry, who was listening intently.

"She loved Quiddich, but didn't like to fly. She'd get dizzy if she got too high on a broom. She preferred pumpkin juice to Butterbeer. Her favourite color was royal purple. She liked glam rock, especially David Bowie, but some of that was probably because of how much it upset her sister." Snape paused thinking of what to say next. Harry took that moment to speak.

"But what about the…" Snape saw the image of Lily storming away from him in Harry's eyes.

"That was one very bad day in a relationship that lasted ten years. I agreed to spy for the Order two weeks later and won her back by that."

"Did you date her?"

"No. We were friends, very good friends. I think we would have been more, but as soon as graduation came, I became a Death Eater, and never got to see her again. We were going to meet up at the Victory Party that never came."

"And my dad?"

"I didn't really know James. He was smart enough to know that I was standing between him and your mum, and he was willing to do what he could to make me look bad in front of her, and I was willing to do the same to him."

"What did he do for the Order?"

"He wasn't a member; at least I don't think he was. He graduated, played Quiddich for Brighton, and courted your mum, but that's all I know."

"He joined 's a picture of the Order, and he's in it. What about her? How did she become involved?"

"I brought her with me for the Occlumency and Legilimency lessons with Dumbledore. After I agreed to spy on the Death Eaters, I needed some new skills, and she wanted to learn them as well. Besides Dumbledore, we might have been the first two members. Or not. He was always less than forthcoming about what was going on with that operation."

Harry gave him a look of perfect understanding and then said, "You said she loved you."

Snape looked at Harry. Lily stood behind the chair Harry was sitting in, placed a kiss on the top of his head, and smiled brilliantly at Severus. "Yes, she loved me. More than anyone had before. Can you feel the magical protection she placed on you?"

Harry thought long and hard. "Sometimes I think I can."

"Focus on the magic around me."

Harry was quiet for quite some time. He stared at Snape with unfocused eyes. "I see it. It's not the same spell she used on me, but it's similar."

"She placed her protection on me the day after I joined the Death Eaters. That was her greatest gift. She could love people so well that it would take physical form and keep them safe. I have no doubt that it was her protection that kept me alive when Nagini bit me. It kept me alive through many dark years."

"And you loved her?"

"More than anyone else in my life."

"Why didn't you save her?"

Snape was silent for a long moment. "After Nagini bit me, I thought I was dead. I found myself back by the river, where your mother and I used to spend long summer afternoons talking, playing, just being together. She was there, and she told me that this was the way it had to happen. She had to die, you had to die, and I had to die. It couldn't have worked any other way. Real? Imaginary? I don't know. I do know that I did everything I could short of kidnapping your mother to try and save her life. And I was very tempted to try that as well."

Harry could see the regret in the older man's eyes. "She was there that night. She walked with me to meet Voldemort. Before I entered the clearing they vanished. She would have gone to you." It was mostly a statement, with just a hint of question.

"Yes, she came to me. She's always been there when I needed her the most."

They spent the next two hours talking about Lily. Snape told the stories of their youth. Harry listened and asked questions. At lunch they rejoined the rest of the Weasley party. It was not until three days later that Snape realized that sometime, while talking to Harry, Lily had vanished.

Hermione had been right. By the end of lunch the sombre mood had lifted, and people had started to laugh. It began slowly: a titter here, a guffaw there. By the time George had finished the story about the time he and Fred discovered the route to the kitchens, the mirth had become infectious.

Snape toyed with the idea that a mild elixir of happiness had been added to the meal, but he didn't taste the tell-tale hint of liquorice and had yet to hear of anyone who could brew it without that flavour.

He was listening to Bill tell a story about Lupin when he felt the hairs stand on the back of his neck. Before he even had the time to think about it his hand was on his wand, and he was whirling to face whatever behind him had set off his danger sense.

He felt immensely foolish and jumpy when all he saw behind him was a tableful of other people who had come for Battle of Hogwarts day. He noted Neville, Luna, and Daphne, and what he guessed were their children.

Then he really saw Neville and realized he had set off Snape's wards. The rage in his look was powerful enough to make him want to cringe. The fact that he didn't know how to handle the situation made him feel flustered. He sat back down, made a joke about old habits dying hard, and thought about what to do.

Old Snape, Professor Snape, Greasy Git Snape, would have billowed over and taken points from Gryffindor while verbally abusing Neville. Which was probably why Neville was looking at him with such loathing.

New Snape didn't know what to do. He was sure that there was no way he could intimidate Neville any longer. The last year at Hogwarts had beaten all the fear out of him. What he wasn't sure of was what to do next. _Walk over and apologize? Too little too late. Try to explain? A bit better, but not enough. Ask Harry and Hermione for help? God, you'd sound like a git. Let it lie. Probably the best bet. _

He was happy with letting the issue lie, but all through the afternoon he'd feel Neville's eyes on him. By the fourth time it happened he was fairly sure that pretending he didn't notice wasn't going to cut it. After all, Neville had seen him whirl around looking for a fight during lunch. He had to know he had triggered that response.

With that in mind he gathered Hermione and Harry away from the romping baby Weasleys and asked them a question.

"Did anyone ever explain the Prophecy to Neville?"

They looked at each other. And with that look Snape knew the answer. _Bloody Buggering Gits! He went with them to the Ministry and no one ever told him why. Fuck! He probably thinks they were there for Sirius._ Snape stormed off toward Neville while Harry and Hermione were still looking at each other.

It wasn't hard to find Neville. All he had to do was focus on the hate. It was strong enough that eye contact was unnecessary. _Hell, it's strong enough that all I need to do is be within one hundred yards._ He closed the last few steps and found himself face to face with Neville Longbottom, Professor of Herbology, Order of Merlin First Class, Hero of Vold War II, Head of Gryffindor House, and the man who cut the head off of Nagini.

Neville stood to face Snape.

_Hell! He's four inches taller than I am. When did that happen?_ Snape spoke quickly, laying down his olive branch before Neville could get in an attack. "I was horrible to you while you were in school, and I've just learned that no one ever told you why."

"Because you were a sadistic bully who enjoyed the pain of those weaker than yourself."

"Well, yes, but there was a much bigger reason." Neville looked disappointed. He had wanted a fight with Snape, but this man, who was smaller, cleaner, and older didn't resemble the man of his memories enough to satisfy his desires. Plus his immediate capitulation didn't help to foster Neville's rage.

"You just admit to being a bully? Like it was of no importance."

"It's obvious I was a bully. You know it, I know it, everyone who was in that class knew it. There's no reason to dispute it. And compared to the rest of the story, you might not find it terribly important either."

"Why should I even let you speak to me?"

"You don't have to. Harry or Hermione can tell you the story just as well. Maybe not just as well. They don't know about what happened to your parents, but they can give you the basics."

"I know what happened to my parents." Neville was angry, but as Snape noted, most of the anger was no longer directed at him.

"Yes, but you don't know why. Will you listen to my story? If you don't trust me, Dumbledore's portrait can confirm what I tell you." Neville nodded; anger at Snape, anger at himself for not being angry enough at Snape, and curiosity warred within him.

"When you went to the Ministry with Harry and the others, you were lured there because Voldemort wanted a Prophecy. In a nutshell that prophecy said that the one who could destroy Voldemort would be born in the end of July to parents who had thrice defied him. Lily Potter was the one who created that Prophecy in January of 1979. But that July no babies were born. Your mother and Lily decided to make sure the Prophecy would come true in 1980, resulting in you and Harry.

"No one knew which baby the Prophecy referred to. So both your parents and Harry's went into hiding shortly after your births. After Voldemort was killed Dumbledore hid Harry, but we thought you were still safe. After all, no one knew where you or your parents were, and your Grandmother wasn't about to tell anyone."

"I was still officially a member of the Death Eaters, so I was there when Bellatrix decided that both you and Harry had to die, and soon. That by the time the Dark Lord rose again, both of you would be out of the way. I got word to Dumbledore that they were looking for you, and he, well, you'll have to ask him what he did with it, but somehow your parents were captured. It might have been a trap that went wrong, or they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"The Prophecy was kept quiet. On the Order's side Dumbledore, Lily, James, your parents, and I were the only ones who knew about it. It was an even closer secret among the Death Eaters, Voldemort, Bellatrix, and I were the only ones who knew. The story about your parents being captured and tortured to reveal the location of Voldemort's corpse was released. They were tortured to get information as to where you were. They both went insane rather than tell. At some point the Order realized your family needed help, and rescued them before Bellatrix finished them off.

"The year you started school was the year Quirrell came back with Voldemort along for the ride. We knew he had returned, and that it would just be a matter of time before I would need to rejoin the Death Eaters and reprise my role as spy. That meant there were two people I had to be especially horrible to, you and Harry. With Draco two tables over, I had an audience who would report back to the Death Eaters on my actions the entire time I had you in my class.

"I'm not saying I would have been a grand mentor and a pile of happy fluff had we met under different circumstances. You were a forgetful, twitchy child who never focused on your work, and really should not have been allowed into a room filled with bubbling cauldrons. You almost set fire to the class at least four times a year, and Hermione is almost entirely responsible for you passing the class. I am also not apologizing for how I treated you. I valued my position among the Death Eaters much more highly than your self-esteem. But I am sorry that no one thought to explain the whole story to you sooner. You should have known that you were a target for an extra load of misery. It might have been easier to deal with."

"My last year… That's why you let the Carrows torture us."

"I did not let them torture _you_. I encouraged them to torture _you_. In fact, I did my best to make sure that they knew I would be very pleased should you end up dead one day. But I also knew you were hiding in the Room of Requirement, and the correct way to get to you was to ask it for the passage to the Hog's Head. Obviously I did not want you quite as dead as I had let on."

They stood there staring at one another. Neville looked surprised, as if he had just found the monster under the bed really was just a forgotten old doll. Then, almost of its own accord, his hand moved, and punched Snape in the face.

Snape knew it was coming. He knew it a second before Neville did. He allowed himself to be hit, allowed Neville a chance to regain some face for all the years of belittlement. He was shocked at how much it hurt though. As he picked himself off the ground he tentatively touched his nose, and wondered if it was broken. _Well, it's not like it'll look worse for it if it is._

Hermione had rushed over to them, glowering at Neville. She was yelling at him, but Snape wasn't paying attention to her words. He looked at Neville.

"Are you satisfied?" He really hoped Neville didn't want to hit him again. He didn't think he'd be willing to let him do it, and at this late date, a duel between them would just be uselessly messy.

Neville thought about it, and noticed Hermione still had her wand out. The fact that every one of his students were watching also weighed on his mind. He sighed. "Yes, I'm satisfied. Try not to bleed too much on the carpets; the House Elves are busy enough as it is."

Snape nodded, turned, took Hermione's hand, and walked back to the stunned looking Weasleys.


	36. In Which an Unexpected Owl Arrives

Chapter 39: An Unexpected Owl

Tuesday morning. Snape was on his own in his garden, eating breakfast, and looking over his list of potential projects. The owl that landed on his table was one he had never seen before. He detached the scroll, and it stood waiting for him to read it. He opened it.

_Mr. Snape,_

_I see from our invoices that you have recently engaged us to make you a ring. Normally there would be an eight week waiting period for this ring, but I would like a chance to repay a debt to you. If you will come to Fledding's tonight after eight, with the sketch, I will use my free time to make your ring tonight._

_Please send __Honoria__ back with your response._

_Thank you,_

_Ian Fledding_

Snape quickly wrote a response, and tried to think what debt Ian Fledding may have owed him. Nothing was springing to mind. He'd have to ask Mr. Fledding when he saw him tonight.

The sun was getting low as he walked down the streets of Hogsmead towards Fledding's Jewelry. The sign on the door said that the shop was closed. He knocked on the door, and waited while an elderly man unlocked and opened the door for him.

"Mr. Snape, thank you for coming."

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Fledding. I'll admit I'm a bit puzzled, I don't think we've ever met before, so I'm having a hard time placing any debt we may have."

"It's true we haven't met before, but I believe you know my grandson, Almer Nacir."

"Yes, I taught him at Hogwarts. I'm still not seeing the connection."

"Almer was on the way to becoming a Death Eater, and we were doing everything we could to convince him of what a bad idea it was. But he thought we were all old Muggle loving fools. When you killed Dumbledore that convinced him he didn't want anything to do with the Death Eaters. You probably saved him from a very long stint in Azkaban, if not worse."

"Well, that's the first time anyone thanked me for killing Dumbledore."

The old man nodded, and walked to the counter. "Well now, let's look at your sketch, and get your young lady her ring." Snape handed the sketch to the jeweler.

He looked it over. "It's a good design. It should take me an hour or so to do it. Why don't you grab a drink, or stroll about town. Come back at 9:30, and I'll have it done for you."

"Can I stay and watch?"

"Certainly, just don't make too much noise and stay out of the way. You wouldn't want me to lose my concentration while I'm working."

Snape followed the old man behind the counter to a small workroom. He leaned against the doorway while the man settled himself at a worktable in the middle of the room. The jeweler took a small ingot of red gold and began his work. The metal floated into the air and stretched into a long slender wire. A moment later and the platinum followed suit.

As Snape watched the strands of metal slowly curved into elegant S shapes, each set smaller than the one before it. When Mr. Fledding had a small pile of them on the workbench he conjured the gems to him. He began to link the curves and stones together.

While watching the ring form above Mr. Fledding's workbench, Snape though about how to give it to Hermione. And ran headfirst into a brick wall. He just couldn't see himself kneeling at her feet and slipping it onto her finger blathering about her making him happier than he had ever been. A: It wasn't true, for either of them. B: It really wasn't his style. C: She'd already agreed to marry him, he didn't need to convince her it was a good idea. D: He needed something to remind her why it was a good idea. Something that said 'we are building a new life, a solid friendship, and maybe one day, love.' Something that said he was worthy of her, and if he wasn't her first choice, he could be a damn good second one.

_Bugger._ He sighed, and Mr. Fledding looked up at him. "Getting nervous?"

"No. She's already agreed, so it's not like there's much risk here."

Fledding nodded and went back to the ring. It looked done to Snape, but Fledding continued waving his wand, doing something to it. Several moments passed while Snape thought about how to give her the ring, now spinning over the workbench, while Fledding looked at it with great intensity.

"Do you want an inscription?"

Snape jerked out of his reverie. He had been imagining sliding it onto her finger, but he couldn't see where.

"An inscription. No, I don't think so."

"Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I can always add it later." He handed the ring over to Snape. Snape watched the gems glint in the light. He felt the warm silkiness of the metal. He traced his fingers over the outside of the ring, and then slipped it on the tip his first finger, and found that the inside was smooth and comfortable. "Thank you, it's lovely."

"Let's get you a box for it."

Several moments later Snape was out of the shop, a small black box in his pocket, and thoughts of how to give it to Hermione on his mind.


	37. In Which Girliness Ensues

Chapter 40: In Which Girliness Ensues

Ginny and Hermione had one tradition that they had never broken. Although the year Ginny was nine months pregnant with JS and went into labour the day after, they had come pretty close.

Every year, on the Saturday before the Graduation Ball, they had lunch, went gown shopping, and wrapped the day up with getting their hair done and massages. It was a thoroughly decadent treat, and both of them relished it.

This year they met in front of Patils' Pretties to begin the hunt for a proper Graduation Ball Gown. Five years ago the Patil sisters opened their dress shop. Unlike Madam Malkin's, they offered robes, dress robes, and, in a move that startled the wizarding community, but was quickly accepted, gowns. And, unlike Madam Malkin, (in actuality Ms Malkin, the Madam had been dead for seven years now, but her daughter kept the shop exactly the way her mother did, almost as a shrine.) they spent at least a month per year travelling around the globe to see what was new in fashion. So, if you wanted an excellently made set of black professor's robes, you went to Madam Malkin's. If you wanted something that looked like it walked down the runway in Milan last spring, you went to the Patil sisters.

Hermione and Ginny wanted something that looked like it had walked down the runway. Tradition held that robes (and now gowns) for the graduation ball would be black to honour the school as a whole and the house colours of the person wearing them.

Ginny had thought ahead and made an appointment to see the Patils. She had figured that this time of year, especially with wedding fever running high, just walking in was likely to get them little attention and less time.

Even with taking wedding fever into account, they were still shocked to see the inside of the store.

Usually, entering Patils' Pretties meant walking into a forest of beautifully vibrant fabrics surrounding a work table, a fitting area, and a three way mirror. This year they walked into a winter wonderland, every shade of white either of them had ever imagined surrounded them. Ginny took one look at it, glanced at Hermione, and began to laugh.

"I guess we're getting your wedding dress."

"Wedding dress?" Parvati popped out from the back. "Who's the lucky man, Hermione? I thought you two were here for your yearly graduation gowns."

"We are here for the graduation gowns, and maybe a wedding dress for Hermione. All the white made me think of it," Ginny answered.

"Almost everyone coming in is looking for one these days. We didn't stop stocking the colours. They're in the back. I was just getting the reds and golds out for you two." She led the women to the back. "So, come on Hermione, tell me all about it, and show me the ring!" She sounded immensely excited. "Padma, get over here! Hermione's engaged."

Padma joined the three of them. "Oohh, are we going to get to do a wedding gown for you as well? I've been wanting to do one for you for quite a while. So, tell us all about it. Who is he? How did he ask you?"

Hermione looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Both of the Patil sisters were looking at her expectantly, glee in their expressions. _Well, this will be interesting. _"Severus and I had a long chat, and at the end of it we decided to get married."

Padma and Parvati looked stunned. Finally Parvati said, "Severus Snape?"

"Yes." Hermione nodded, eyebrows slightly raised.

Padma gathered her wits about her faster than her sister. "Well then, let's get to making you a dress that gets him to give you a real proposal. None of this 'we had a long chat' nonsense! By the time we get done with you, Hermione, you'll be so lovely; he'll have a hard time breathing."

Ginny laughed, Hermione grinned, and the Patils went to work. Bolts of fabric in every shade of red from lightest pink to almost black and gold from white with fine gold threads woven throughout to actual cloth of gold joined them by the work table. Black in every weight, in every fibre followed the reds and golds. Padma took a quick look at Ginny, and several measuring tapes flew over to join them.

While Ginny's new measurements were being taken, Hermione browsed the fabrics. Parvati was already sitting at the table, sketch book in hand, pencil scratching as she drew her first idea for Hermione.

A fine translucent red silk, with intricate gold designs along the base caught Hermione's attention. She ran her fingers over it, enjoying the succulent texture. "I love this."

Padma looked over, "We brought that a back from India the last time we were there. Traditionally it would be used for making saris."

Parvati looked at it. "Oh, stick with that one. I have just the idea." She tossed the sketch she had been working on aside, and began to draw again. "Go find a solid gold you like, and a medium weight black in silk. I think you are going to love this."

Hermione did as she was told, browsing the golds, and settling on a heavy, old-gold silk. The black was easy to pick, she had chosen the same black silk for each of her other gowns. She took the bolts to Parvati and looked over her shoulder as she sketched.

"None of that. You wait until I'm finished. Go help Ginny." Ginny was no longer being measured, and was telling Padma that as long as she had her nursing breasts, she might as well take advantage of them.

"Lots of cleavage then." Padma had started sketching as well.

"I want to cleave as long as the cleaving is good. These luvvies will be back to their small selves soon enough. I might as well show them off while I can."

"I think we can come up with something that will suit you," Padma smiled, "and Harry."

"He's pretty easy to suit. Keep the breasts front and centre, and he's a happy guy." Ginny was laughing as she joined Hermione browsing the fabrics. She had a harder time than Hermione because her hair didn't go well with her house colours. The golds were fine, but the reds… well… that was a yearly challenge. "This is the only time I wish I had been a Slytherin. I look fantastic in green and silver."

Hermione handed her a pale, pale pink. "How about this? It's almost white."

Padma looked at it. "No. Go for bold colours. I want a good, strong crimson and gold. Then get your hair done blonde for the night; you'll look smashing." Ginny pondered blonde hair while Hermione put the pink back.

"Hermione, come see this." Both Hermione and Ginny went to see what was on Parvati's sketch pad.

The dress on the pad was lovely. A fitted bodice of black spiralled up from the left hip to the right shoulder. The underskirt was an ankle length sheath of the gold Hermione had chosen. The overskirt was a loose flow of the red silk that fell from the base of the bodice to the floor. The golden design that marked the edge of the silk had been twisted to fall from her left hip to her right ankle, and back again to the left hip on the reverse of the dress.

"I think the asymmetry will work really well with your figure. Plus this way the lovely pattern on the red won't be hidden at the bottom of the dress. If you really want to go all out, a band around your right bicep, matching the pattern on the red would finish this perfectly."

Hermione looked at the dress and tried to imagine it on herself. "Oh, we forgot to tell you, we've got a new feature. Robin worked it out for us two months ago when the Marriage Act passed. Go stand in front of the mirrors." Parvati gestured to the three-way mirror.

Hermione did as told, and saw herself wearing the dress. "Too many of our customers couldn't decide from the sketches alone. So he made this for us to help them decide and cut down on the amount of time we'd spend watching girls dither over one design or another."

Ginny walked over to Hermione, who was still staring at herself. "I think this is the best one yet. How do you do it? Every year you make me something new, and every year I think it's the prettiest thing I've ever seen, and then the next year you turn around and do something even better."

Parvati smiled at the compliment. "So, shall we being to make you a dress?"

"Yes, let's."

The measuring tapes flew over to Hermione and began their work. Ginny went back to the fabrics and selected a vibrant crimson, the color of light shining through a ruby, and a sumptuous gold.

"Scoot over Hermione. Ginny, this will be much easier to see in the mirror. The sketch pad won't quite show it correctly." Ginny stood in front of the mirror, and only saw herself in her own clothing. "Turn around, so your back faces the mirror."

She did so, and found herself in a black mermaid skirt. The back of the dress was open, and from just above the small of her back, two bands of fabric, red on the left, gold on the right circled her back, and went toward the front of the dress, under her arms, crossing over her bust and heading behind her neck. At the top of the back the bands joined together again. This time the red was on the right, gold on the left. They came together in a knot at the back of her neck, and then trailed down the back of the dress. She turned around and saw the coloured fabrics crisscrossed in the front just below her sternum, flowed over her breasts, up her shoulders, providing the dress with a deep V neck, and then tied behind her neck.

"I figured the Mermaid cut would take advantage of all your post pregnancy curves. You've got a great hourglass right now, so we might as well take advantage of it." Padma was looking at the dress on Ginny, and quickly did something with her wand. The mirror showed Ginny with golden blond hair. "See what I mean about changing your hair for the night."

Ginny was nodding. "I like the hair. I'm not sure about the skirt. I usually try to look like I don't have hips, and this certainly does not help that illusion."

"No, it doesn't do that. It does make you look like a wanton sex kitten, though. I think Harry will approve… I know Harry will approve," Hermione said. A certain conversation that Ron and Harry had had back in fifth year, one that would have caused both of them to spontaneously combust had they known Hermione was listening, ran through her mind.

"What do you mean, you know?" Ginny's eyebrow rose. Her lips curled into a smile.

"Let's just say that Ron and Harry were not always as cautious as they should have been during late night conversations in the common room."

"Really… I'll have to test this theory. I'll take the dress."

Padma began cutting silks, while Parvati asked, "So, are we making a wedding dress as well?"

Hermione hesitated. Ginny answered for her, "We most certainly are. At least we're going to bounce some ideas around!"

"Let me guess," Padma said. "You want something with clean lines, a minimum of lace and beads, and if anything even remotely like it ever showed up in Witch Weekly you don't want it?"

Hermione looked at Ginny with a slight glare. "You told her that didn't you?"

Ginny looked mock distressed. Padma looked up from her work, "She didn't need to tell us. We've made four gowns for you, and not a bead or bit of lace has been on any of them. We don't think you'd decide to look like a pile of meringue for your wedding."

"I don't know that we're having a wedding. Hell, I don't even have an engagement ring. I don't think he really gets this stuff."

Ginny's expression went unreadable. Snape had told her on Wednesday that he had the ring, and was just looking for the perfect time to give it to her. Then she spoke fervently, "If you want a wedding, you're having one, even if Harry and I have to drag him there at wand point. Now, let's talk wedding dresses!"

Parvati showed Hermione and Ginny to a stack of Muggle magazines. "We can do almost anything you see in these. Just start flipping through and mark the ones you like. We can design from what you pick."

Hermione and Ginny began to flip through while the Patils were busily cutting and basting away behind them. As Hermione looked at the images her opinion of lace and beads began to rise a bit. The muggle magazines seemed to have a better idea of how to use them to create a fetching composition than Witch Weekly did. Or maybe it was because Witch Weekly was aiming at a different market than Brides, Modern Bride, and The Knot.

As she and Ginny continued to flip through the magazines, marking pages when they saw something they liked, Parvati said, "So, Hermione, how did you end up with Snape? I don't want to be insulting, but…"

Hermione shrugged. "I think everyone over the age of sixteen and under forty-five who knows about us is wondering that. The Act passed, we both opted to fill out questionnaires, and it turned out that we matched up very well. We had a few dates, and we just... fancy each other. He's not as dark or sarcastic as he used to be. And we've got lots to talk about."

"That makes sense, both of you have the brains of Ravenclaws, even if you weren't sorted with us," Padma said.

"What's he really like?" Parvati asked.

"He's comfortable. It's not a heart-pounding, romance novel relationship, but it's enjoyable. He likes to cook and dance, and he's good at both as well."

"He can cook, dance, and keep up a good conversation? If you don't snatch him, I will," Padma quipped.

The other three laughed. "Well, I've got him, and I'm not going to let him go anytime soon. You'll just have to settle for life with your husband. How is Brian these days?"

"Lovely, he's in New York looking shopping for our fall line of fabrics."

"Hermione, look at this one." Ginny was thrusting a picture at her. The first thing Hermione noticed was the model had long curly brown hair. Secondly she saw that the dress was a very simple, elegant sleeveless A line. A little pleating at the top of the bodice, a fitted band below the bust line with just a sprinkling of pearls and beads, and a lace up back. Hermione never realized that she said, "Ooohhh" when she saw it. Ginny did, and her grin grew.

"I think we've got a winner, ladies."

Hermione was still looking at the dress while both of the Patils came over. "That would look smashing on you," Padma said. "Let's get you in front of the mirror."

Parvati went to the fabrics and began sorting thought the whites for the exact right shade of just barely ivory to go with the warm tones of Hermione's hair and skin.

Hermione was once again in front of the mirror, when the version of the dress in the magazine appeared on her. Padma was right; it did look smashing. It was so simple, restrained, and deliciously elegant.

Then Parvati made it better. The gown in the magazine was white, very, very white. Parvati had selected a heavy satin in an ivory that complimented Hermione's skin tone, and made her all but glow.

"Oh, one more thing…" Two more wand swishes made two more changes to the dress. It had originally had white pearls and clear crystals, but the first swish made the crystals into little emeralds. The second swish made the ribbon that laced up the back a matching green. "To honour your new husband. We'll make sure we get him into something red for you."

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror. She was almost afraid she'd start crying. This was just... It was the perfect image of something she never thought she'd have. And it was so pretty, and elegant, and still it was an illusion. She knew she was wearing a light blouse, jeans, and trainers. And she knew, no matter what Ginny said, she couldn't just force a man into a wedding he didn't want.

It was still a dream, a dream she had thought died with Ron. But now it was closer to real than it had been in a very long time. She realized the others were watching her, expecting her to respond to something. Her brain skittered around to find the last bit of conversation.

"I didn't think you did menswear," Hermione finally said.

Padma looked downright gleeful. "Oh we'll do menswear for Severus Snape."

A quick prickle of fear jolted Hermione. "You'll be kind, right? Neville just punched him on Monday; I don't want to put him in another position where any of his other former students will try to get back at him for the past."

Parvati looked insulted, with an underlying level of mirth. "We will be kind."

Padma, wearing the exact same expression of her twin added, "We are always kind."

Parvati finished, "And we will be especially kind to a Mr Severus Snape, because he is your chosen, and because he won't let us have any fun with him if we aren't."

Hermione's dread began to grow, both of the twins looked happier by the second. Ginny was enjoying this all too much. "What do you mean by fun?" Hermione asked.

"First and foremost, we are going to design something that cannot billow no matter what he does. Secondly, it will not be black. Thirdly there will be no more than ten buttons on the whole outfit, and probably less. Fourthly, the outfit will fit him properly. And fifthly, we will make sure that the color we choose will actually make him look good," Padma said, looking for all the world like a General planning the objectives of an attack.

"Yes, Ma'am." Hermione snapped off a salute.

"So, are we making this for you?" Padma asked.

"Erm…" Hermione was torn, she really liked the dress. Really, really liked the dress. But she also liked her husband to be, quite a bit more than the dress. She couldn't see deciding what kind of wedding they were going to have without some input from him.

"Can you save the design?"

"Yes, that's not a problem." Parvati was charming a sheet of paper to remember what they had come up with.

"Then save it for me. I have to find out what kind of wedding we're having before I get this gown."


	38. In Which Inspiration Strikes

Chapter 41: In Which Inspiration Strikes

Hermione walked in the front door carrying a very large bag. As soon as Snape saw the name on it, he knew what it was. She kissed him on the forehead and headed up to his, he shook his head, _our_ bedroom.

It was rapidly becoming their bedroom. A box of books here, a few outfits there, her pillows and blankets had all migrated to his home. More followed them each day. He had already expanded the closet and the cabinet in the bathroom. Likewise the kitchen was undergoing a similar metamorphosis. She had a favourite cast iron fry pan and two chef's knives she didn't want to work without. Her selection of hand mixed curry powders, coffees, and spice rubs all joined his considerable collection.

He followed her up to their room. "Did you get your graduation ball gown?"

She was carefully hanging it in the closet. "Yes."

"Can I see it?"

"That depends?"

He looked amused. "Depends?"

"On if you are going to the ball with me. If you are, you'll see it Tuesday night, on me. If not, then I'll show it to you now."

His inclination was to skip the ball. He didn't relish running into Longbottom or, for that matter, most of the rest of the Hogwarts staff. As he was getting ready to say, 'Show me now', a flash of inspiration hit. The ball would be a really good place to give her the ring. Good food, music, and dancing, all three of which she liked. She seemed to like the idea of getting dressed up, if the fact she got a new gown each year was anything to go by. She didn't expect him to go, so he'd get points for doing it with her. The ball sounded like a good plan.

"I'll wait for Tuesday."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Really. I know you like to dance, and I like to dance, so why turn up the opportunity to dance together?"

He thought the look she was giving him was suspicion, but instead she asked, "Do you have dress robes?"

"Yes, I have dress robes. They haven't been out of my closet in a while, but…" He began searching though the closet and then handed her a set of dark, almost black, forest green dress robes with a black and silver vest and tie. "I think they'll do."

She looked at them carefully. "Yes, I think they'll do as well."

She re-hung his robes and then walked to the bed. She lay down and stretched out.

"Did you do something to your hair?"

She smiled, genuinely pleased that he had noticed. "This was my one big yearly splurge. Ginny and I get together, buy our gowns, eat lunch, get our hair done, and get massaged. So yes, I got my hair cut, the style is pretty much the same, but it's a bit shorter. You should see Ginny, though. She's blonde. I'm looking forward to Monday morning and seeing what Harry has to say about that."

"Why would she dye her hair? It's beautiful the way…" He trailed off feeling a little silly.

She sat up and gave him an understanding look. "It's okay. I know you like red hair. She dyed it because blond will look better with her dress. It will be red again sometime on Wednesday most likely. Red hair really doesn't go with the gown. So for the next few days, it'll be blond."

He sat on the bed next to her, his fingers stroking her very not red hair. "I am becoming partial to brunette, as well. So, did you have a late lunch, or will you want to eat soon?"

"I'm pretty full. I was thinking of just having some popcorn later tonight, but I'll keep you company while you eat."

"I'm hungry now. How about we move to the kitchen?"

They stood and went into the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of wine, while he began prepping for dinner for one.

"Do you want help?" Hermione asked.

"No thanks. I'm so used to cooking this for just me that an extra set of hands would throw me off."

She watched him as he set his grill pan to heating, tossed up a quick salad, and seasoned a lamb chop. There was a much-practiced look to how he was moving.

"You've made this before then?"

"Probably about three times a month. It's easy. It's good. I could probably make this and a few other dishes in my sleep." He popped a frozen roll into the oven and set the chop to sear.

She took a sip of her drink. "What did you do today?"

"Selected my next project, wrote up a letter to let them know I wanted it, but would not be starting until July sixth, and named my price. Now I wait for them to see if they want me badly enough to take those terms."

"No percentage on this one?"

"No." He shook his head. "It's an interesting bit of work, but the market for dragon sedatives is extremely limited."

"Dragon sedatives?"

"Yes, the people who employ Charlie want something more effective than stunning spells, with less chance of it backfiring, and fewer bad side effects. And, if at all possible, in a form that a dragon will willingly eat."

"If at all possible..." She smirked. "While they're at it why not ask for one that the dragon will willingly dose himself with and save everyone the bother of having to drug him. Even better yet, how about you breed a docile dragon that doesn't need to be drugged?"

He flipped the lamb chop. "You'd really have to see Hagrid about that. Although I'm not sure he'd be willing to breed a docile dragon. He'd probably find them boring." Severus grabbed the roll from the oven, tossing it from hand to hand before setting it on his plate. "It should be interesting work, though. Dragons are so fiercely magical that they can… metabolize, for lack of a better word, almost all magic that comes their way. So this potion will have to be able to slip past their magical defences. The first thing I'm going to send them for testing won't have any magic at all. It will be a concentrated dose of opium, a sort of super heroin. Once I see how that works, it will be much easier to come up with a formula. Plus, for all I know, they may have overlooked a high dose sedative simply because it isn't magical."

They sat down for dinner and continued to talk about his thoughts for a Dragon Calming Draught. Towards the end of the meal she had gone fairly quiet and thoughtful. He decided to take a quick peek at her mind, and saw a white dress, but she pushed it aside, not quite ready to breach that topic, and he quickly pulled back.

"There is one thing I've been thinking about all day."

"What?" He was expecting to hear about the dress.

"Well, maybe thinking isn't the right word. Something I'd like to try on you." She smiled warmly.

"Something you'd like to try… Is this something I'm going to like?"

"Oh, I think so."

"Then by all means, try away."

"Go upstairs, get naked, and lie down. I'll join you in a minute."

He looked immensely pleased as he bounded up the stairs. Anything that involved her doing something to him upstairs and naked sounded much better than a conversation involving a wedding dress.

Hermione went to her purse and pulled out a small bottle of almond oil she had purchased after she and Ginny got their massages. She found him laying face up on the bed, hands clasped behind his head, looking very amused.

"Roll over." He did so, and she joined him on the bed, straddling his thighs. "I had the lady who worked on me teach me this spell. I've been dying to try it ever since."

"Aren't you going to take off your clothes?"

"Maybe later, I want to do a good job at this, and that will be easier to do if I don't get distracted."

He lifted his head and turned it to see her. "Wait, what exactly are you going to do to me?"

"I'm going to give you a massage. The massage witch who worked on me used a four hand spell, and I asked her to teach it to me, now I want to try it on you. Lie back down, relax, I think you'll like this."

Snape was thinking something along the lines of there were many other things he rather be doing if he was going to be in bed naked with her straddling him, but when her hands started to work their way around his left shoulder, and then another pair of hands began on his right, that train of thought quickly vanished.

"The way the spell works is that whatever you do with the one set of hands, the magical ones do on the other side. So as you can feel when I knead your bicep like this, the other side gets worked on, too. Brilliant isn't it?"

"Lovely." She continued to work on his upper arms, while he made a sound eerily reminiscent of purring.

"How do you do that?"

"My great-great-grandmother was a cat." He tensed suddenly as she reached the muscles between his shoulder blade and spine.

"Too hard?"

"A little, it's odd; it hurts but feels really good, too."

"How about this?" She pressed into a spot near the top of his shoulder blade.

He jumped a little when her fingers pressed into that spot. "Merlin! I can feel that in my shoulder and arm and jaw. What is that?"

"Your body's way of saying, 'rub me.'" She continued stroking and kneading the muscles of his shoulder until they were soft and supple, and then moved down to his mid and lower back. She enjoyed watching the way his skin flushed under her hands, and was amazed to watch the way it flushed under the invisible pressure of the spell.

"This is really brilliant to watch. I can see the depressions in your skin, but there's nothing there to make them."

"I'll have to do it to you at some point then." He sounded sleepy. She continued her ministrations. Long flowing strokes up his spine followed by shorter, deeper ones. Soft gliding finger work interspersed with kneading and rocking. As she worked, his breathing became more and more even.

She slid off his thighs to work on his buttocks and legs. Enjoying the freedom to really feel them and see them. The soft curves, the springy hair, and the firm muscles were all lovely to her hands. When she finished up with his feet half an hour later, he was snoring softly. She placed a blanket over him and went downstairs to have that bowl of popcorn.


	39. In Which Popcorn and Weddings

Chapter 42: In Which Popcorn and Weddings Are Pondered

It wasn't until the corn began to pop that it occurred to Hermione that perhaps this was not the best food to eat when someone upstairs was sleeping. Fortunately, being a witch, she was able to muffle the sounds with a few waves of her wand.

She decided to go with her sweet popcorn mix (although the garlic-butter mix came in a very close second). A little butter, sugar, and cinnamon, with a pinch of salt, graced the fluffy white mass in the bowl.

She settled onto the couch to watch some TV. Maybe a decent movie would be on. While flipping though the channels she came to Celebrity Wedding Spectacular and decided to watch a few minutes.

Which was all she could stand. _Yuck! How can these morons do this? Who spends four hundred thousand pounds on a wedding for a marriage that won't last five years? What is wrong with these people? Ohhh… that cake is really cute. _Flip. New channel. _Too much of that and I'll be wanting my own specially trained doves that will sing whatever our wedding song is while flying over head after the vows. _

_So, why didn't you ask him what kind of wedding he wanted?_

_Because you don't know what you want, but you do know you don't want to hear, 'I thought we'd just fill out the forms and take them to the Ministry.'_

_So what do you want? _The TV flipped back to the Celebrity Wedding Spectacular. But this time she watched critically, with an eye for how things looked, the way the colours blended, and how the flowers complimented each other.

_I want__ calla lilies. White and black calla lilies. And I want my dress. I want my dad to give me away. _

_Your dad won't give you away. He and mom will complain about it being a paternalistic gesture that indicates women are property. Maybe if I ask nicely? Pigs might fly, too, but it isn't likely to happen anytime soon._

She noticed the bridesmaid gowns, and although she loved Ginny dearly, there was only one person she wanted standing next to her when she got married, and she was fairly sure he'd object to being put in a bridesmaid gown. An image of Harry in some fluffy, pink taffeta monstrosity flashed through her mind and she started laughing out loud.

"What's so funny?"

She jumped a good three inches when Snape spoke. She was fumbling with the remote, trying to shut the TV off when he joined her on the couch. He smoothly sat down, dressing gown billowing slightly behind him, and grabbed the remote.

"What dirty little secret are you keeping here?" She felt a blush rise to her scalp when the announcer started talking about million pound plus weddings.

She could see he was enjoying her embarrassment. He very carefully turned to face the TV, ate a few pieces of popcorn, watched the show intently, and then said, "Merlin, who wants a ring that big? You'd need a team of House Elves just to carry your arm around. Who is Shaquille O'Neil, anyway?"

By the time he was asking about O'Neil she had composed herself. "That was a lot of questions. I was laughing at the idea of Harry in a bridesmaid gown. As I'm sure you figured out I'm watching some trashy TV show called Celebrity Wedding Spectacular. Apparently Mrs O'Neil wanted a ring that big, and I think he's an American sports star."

"Why were you envisioning Harry in a bridesmaid dress?"

"Because as much as I love Ginny, when it comes down to it, he's the one I want to stand beside me when we get married. I stood up with him when he and Ginny were married."

"So you want a real wedding then?"

"YesIdo." Her words were very fast.

"You seem bothered by that."

She shrugged. "I guess. I don't think you'd want a real wedding, and I don't want to pressure you into anything, but we'll only get married once, and I don't want to miss my chance at a real wedding, so I'm kind of conflicted. The more I think about it, the more I really want it. I looked at wedding dresses today, and for the first time it really clicked. I want the fantasy. I want the white dress and the flowers and the cake, and… and all the stuff I never thought I'd get to have." As she said it she realized that she had always wanted it, and all that had kept her from 'knowing' what she wanted was her fear of never having it. She was staring right at him, trying to read his reaction, using all her Gryffindor courage to not keep piling on more words to break the silence.

For the first time since they started dating he was aware of how very young she was. Severus scooted closer to her and cradled her head against his chest. "If you want a wedding, we'll have one, on one condition…" He let the silence fill the room. Her dread rose with each second. What on earth could he want for a condition?

Finally he said, "The cake will have a lemon filling."

She punched him softly on the arm. Then she smiled up at him, beamed up at him. He didn't think he had ever had that much unadulterated happiness targeted at him in his life. "You've got a deal." She kissed him.

He stroked her hair, and said, "Now, let's get you to bed. I want to try my hand at that new spell of yours."


	40. In Which We Ponder the Nature of Love

Chapter 43: In Which We Ponder the Nature of Love

Sunday Afternoon: Snape sat at the workbench in his lab debating how to create a super concentrated dose of opium. He had begun with the traditional concentration method of simmering off as much of the water as possible, and was now looking at a thick, goopy paste that would probably be the dream of any hardcore heroin fiend, but wasn't likely to make a dragon sleepy, let alone calm or sedate.

He figured the necessary dose at this point was around four litres, and he needed to get that down to around 150 mL. Less would be better, but was unlikely to happen. Even with magic there was only so far an element could be concentrated without damaging its effective strength.

His first spell removed the last of the water, leaving him with something that looked much like a large slab of very badly poured chocolate. His second spell provided a barrier between him and the opium. He'd didn't want his work compromised by any of the effects of straight opium. His third spell was to cause a very specialized chemistry book to float over to him.

He loved that book. Something like twenty five of them had been printed. It was illegal in every country that knew it existed and considered an urban legend elsewhere. It listed active chemical compounds in many known subjects, and which other compounds could be removed without damaging the effectiveness of the main compound. It had been designed for the illegal drug trade so that the drugs could be smuggled more effectively, but the book also included little fun bits like how to synthesize the happy chemicals in chocolate, coffee, and alcohol. He often wished he had had the chance to meet the men who wrote the book, but as the urban legend had it, they were killed by rival drug lords shortly after the book was written over whom would control the knowledge found therein.

He knew what was sitting in front of him could be sold as black tar heroin, but what he needed to do was strip away anything that wasn't vitally important to the essential compound. This book held the answers. Granted, it held the answers for someone with a pharmaceutical grade lab, but Snape had some short cuts not readily available to the sort of person most likely to have gotten his hands on this book.

He looked over the chemical compound chart, and began to think of the problem like a chemist. If he had the lab, he'd be adding acids, oxygen, and other chemicals to break the bonds holding the different chemicals together, forming new compounds, and then sorting the new from the old. As a wizard he knew he wanted to get rid of the bulk, the color, all the plant matter that was unnecessary, and the latex. He spent some time pouring over the book and then began preparing for the spell that would remove all traces of cellulose. It wasn't a large component, but it was an easy one to isolate.

While he broke up the slab so that his spell would have an easier time removing unwanted chemicals, he remembered the time he had not worn the protective barrier between himself and opium. Most potions workers had done it at least once. Many did it more often. That was one of the reasons why potions masters were so few and far between. Extremely dangerous work, with dangerous chemicals, many of which if you tasted them too often, ended up owning you. Many a potions master in training ended up looking for other work after his system had been forcibly detoxed one too many times.

It was the euphoria that he remembered the most clearly of his experiment all those years ago, and it brought a shock to his system. _That's why Hermione's look last night was familiar. Her smile when I said we'd have a wedding, her moans while I worked her shoulders, her voice calling my name later that night: they're a drug. And I'm rapidly finding myself addicted. _He shook his head, and turned his thoughts back to the work at hand. It was a very bad idea to let his mind wander while working in the lab. _I'd never hear the end of it if I blew myself up like Longbottom!_

Sunday Evening: Hermione was doing her rounds half-heartedly. Yes, it was the last day of school. Yes, she could still take points that might affect the outcome of the yearly house contest, but really, with Ravenclaw in the lead by 146 points, it wasn't likely to come to much. She'd pretty much have to walk into a house orgy to find something worth taking that many points for. So as she walked, she cheated a bit by reading.

She was reading about wizarding wedding ceremonies. She had attended many weddings over the last few years, but except for George, Deidre, and Angelina's wedding, she hadn't noticed much in the way of options. As she had seen, the minster got up, he said his bit, you said your bit, and then you were married.

Apparently, there were other options. She had started with the Ministry's guide, and made a mental note to slap Percy upside the head for foisting such a badly written piece of dreck on the populace at large. She then hit the library.

She found _The Young Witch's Guide to Marriage, Marriage: A Comparative History of Customs, _and _Beyond I Do: Planning the Binding Ceremony You Really Want! _Three minutes of perusal showed her that _The Young Witch's Guide to Marriage _was not what she was looking for. In that she'd have finished moving in with Severus in a week or two, and was already shagging him, there wasn't much in that book that she felt she needed help on.

_Marriage: A Comparative History of Customs_ was fascinating, and she would be spending more time reading it, but also wasn't quite what she was looking for. After all, did she really need to know that Viking custom required the bride be kidnapped from her parents home and held for at least a month to make the marriage binding? No. And she really couldn't see going to Australia so that Snape could 'kidnap' her. But it was a really interesting titbit. And she always liked interesting titbits

It was _Beyond I Do_ that had what she was looking for. So that was the book she was reading as her feet took her on her path around the school. She had finished the section on selecting a binder or binding yourself and was mulling the idea over.

All of the Weasley weddings (once again, with the exception of when Fred and Angelina married Deirdre) had had the Reverend Mullins perform the ceremony. He had also buried Dumbledore, and may have been the only C. of E. minister in the wizarding world. Or not, but he was the only one she knew. He made sense for the Weasley weddings. He was their minister. He had baptized their children. He'd laid two of them to rest. He was the one they listened to most Sunday mornings. But he wasn't particularly important to Hermione, and she doubted Severus even had a nodding acquaintance with the man.

There really wasn't a person who she and Severus shared who would be a good binder. Ginny might do. But when it came down to it, she knew the younger woman really wasn't what she was looking for in a binder. If it had been her and Ron, Harry would have been an excellent choice. But if it had been her and Ron, it also would have been Reverend Mullins. When it really came down to it, there wasn't anyone she wanted to bind her to Snape.

That left binding themselves. It was a good option. They'd have total control over the ceremony. They'd just have to use a modified version of the Unbreakable Vow. It also meant picking the vows very carefully. _Like I'll just toss some in for the fun of it. Love, Honour, Cherish, Keep the house at 23 during the winter, Respect, Do the Dishes, Take out the Trash, Weekly Backrubs, Faithfulness, Trust. 'Till natural death or the vows kill us do we part! Yeah, that's a bloody brilliant list. Maybe this will have to be a much modified version of the Unbreakable Vows. Maybe these should be the Unbreakable but Very Bendy Vows._

_What promises can I live up to for the rest of my life? Anything that involves action but not necessarily intent. Honour? I can do that. It's all action based. Cherish? What the hell is cherish? Respect? I can do that in my sleep. Faithfulness? No problems there, all my temptations are safely married to women I wouldn't want to annoy. Trust? You always trusted him, that's why learning he killed Dumbledore was so awful. And once we started dating, you fell right back into the habit of trusting him. _

_Love? What is love? It's even less defined then cherish. You fought and shagged and sniped and joked and quarrelled and loved Ron. It was all passion, fiery and hot like his hair. And you knew it the minute you saw him in the train on the way to Hogwarts. You've never even had an argument with Severus. Or the 'We've got five minutes alone; let's fuck like bunnies in heat before everyone else gets back and we've got to be civil again' sex behind a door. Yeah, well, how often would you and Ron have done that if you hadn't been at school, his parent's home, or on the hunt for Voldemort? About twice a week. God, I miss that. _She smiled as happy memories from the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts until the day before Ron was killed filled her mind.

She cleared her mind of the pleasant images. _Okay. I've got honour, trust, respect, and shag. Well, successful marriages have been built on less. What about love? What about it? What is love? Do you love Severus? Will you love Severus? _

And it was there, as she came to the door of her office, that Hermione realized she had hit a question she couldn't research an answer to.


	41. In Which We Prepare For a Ball

Chapter 44: In Which We Prepare For the Ball

"Oh. My. God. Do not stop that!" Snape's fingers were amazing, sending tingles throughout her body. Her eyes rolled back as her body sagged against the wall. She jerked back from it rather quickly, as it was wet and cold. Then he moved an inch lower, and she felt her knees go weak.

"If I had known you liked having someone shampoo your hair so much, I'd have done this a lot earlier."

"If I had known I liked having someone shampoo my hair this much, I would have told you sooner. Merlin's pants! You are good at this."

"One summer, I worked as a shampooer at a local hair salon." Severus didn't manage to say the line with a straight face, but since she was facing away from him, Hermione missed his grin.

"Liar. It must be natural talent."

"No. Seriously, every day I'd be there, and women would come in left and right asking for 'Steve' to do their hair, because no one else could do it like I did." He turned her around so her head was under the shower faucet, water rinsing away the shampoo. He was laughing.

"How much time did you spend working on your concentrated opium today?"

"Oh, six-seven hours. Then I had to sample each and every dose to see if they were stronger than the ones I made up yesterday. Actually I don't think I'm in the shower with you. I'm fairly sure I'm still in my lab."

Now she was laughing as well. "You are most certainly in the shower with me. Now, turn around and I'll do your hair." She began to fiddle with the shampoo and his hair. "You know, this would be much easier if you were about twenty-five centimetres shorter."

"I can sit down if you like."

"That would be easier." She began to rub the shampoo into his hair. "So, what has you in such a good mood today? You're almost giddy."

_I'm going to give you your ring today! _"I did have a rather nice breakthrough with my opium work. I was able to isolate the poppy latex and remove it from the mass. That cut down the volume by almost two thirds. I need to concentrate it further. Rght now a dose is about 250 mL. That's still too much to administer easily, but I think it's strong enough to properly sedate a dragon at this point!"

"Lovely!" She had finished his hair and spent a moment massaging his neck and shoulders.

He relaxed against her hands. "That feels so good."

She kneaded a bit longer while the water from the shower beat down upon them. After another minute her hands stilled. "Up you get. We've got to get dressed soon or we won't get to the ball on time."

He stood under the faucet, water streaming down his body, looking like he wasn't going anywhere. "I'll be out in a minute. I need to shave."

"Fine." She stepped out and began to towel off. "Why shave?"

"Looking like I'm wearing black sandpaper on my face isn't appropriate at a ball."

"While that's true, that's not what I mean. Why not use a depilatory spell?"

"It's a matter of skill really. There's a sense of accomplishment that goes with being able to handle a straight razor. Most wizards do use a spell rather than put their skin at risk with a razor. Plus the day I cut my face to bits is the day I know I can't safely go into a potions lab anymore. It's an early warning system of sorts."

He stepped out a moment later, and she tossed him a dry towel. He dried off while watching her work on her hair. She was rubbing something into it, and next to her sat a pile of pins, some plain bobby pins, some with little gold and red sparkly tips.

"What are you doing with your hair?" He kissed the side of her neck.

"I'm going to pin it up. It should take me twenty minutes or so to do it, though. It takes even longer if I straighten it first."

"I like your hair down."

"You'll like it up, too. Now, off with you. I don't work well with an audience."

Snape walked into their room and decided he had time to do a bit of reading before getting dressed. Before settling on the bed with a book he stopped at the mirror and combed his hair. Then he checked the left hip pocket of his dress trousers. _Ring is still there. Where else would it be? Just want to make sure. You'd look like an idiot if it fell out or you put them in the wrong trousers. Yes, well, that was a good answer the first two times you checked. By now you know the damn thing is in there._ He flicked open the box, stroked his finger over the stones, and smiled. He slid the box back into the pocket, hung his towel over the bed post, and settled down to read.

At some later point Hermione came out of the bathroom. "You're not dressed yet?" She sounded somewhat nervous, but he didn't know why. He figured since he was reading naked in bed it had to be a rhetorical question.

"Neither are you."

"My hair is done." She had been right; he did like her hair up.

"So's mine," he pointed to his neatly combed, damp hair.

She made a sound he took to mean she was exasperated. So he put his book aside and began to put on his clothing. She grabbed a small bag that had begun living on his vanity lately, and went back into the bathroom.

She was still in there when he finished dressing, leaving the robe on its hanger for now. He ran his fingers over the ring box one more time and returned to his book.

When she came out this time, her lips, fingernails and toenails were all deeply red. He found the toenails especially fascinating. Little crescents of red winked at him every time she took a step. He hoped she was going to be wearing sandals to go with her snazzy red toenails. Part of his mind registered that the rest of her face had been made up as well, but he had a hard time drawing his eyes away from her toes.

She was mildly amused by how much he liked her painted toenails. _I'll have to do that again. Do I have an anklet here? No, but you've got a bracelet that could be modified. _She fished around in her things. _I need my own bureau. _The bracelet was just a thin, gold chain, but with a few seconds of wand work, it was a thin, gold chain long enough to fit around her ankle.

She held out the anklet and her right foot. "Would you put it on me?"

"Oh, yes." He fastened the chain, and placed a soft kiss on the top of her foot. "I like the nail polish."

"I noticed you liking the nail polish. Now let's see if you like the rest of it." She gathered her underwear and the bag from Patils' Pretties. He sat on their bed and watched her dress. There was a delicious intimacy that went with being able to watch a woman get ready to go out. He had never realized he wanted it before now, and now he never wanted to be without it again.

She was standing in front of the mirror, placing a cuff on her arm that matched the pattern on the red silk of her dress. He stood up, feeling his heart beating very fast, and walked behind her. He kissed her neck where it met her shoulder. For a second he didn't know how his voice would sound when he spoke, but speak he did.

"You look almost perfect."

She arched an eyebrow at him, watching him in the mirror, not turning to face him. Something was off about him, but she wasn't sure what. Hermione decided to play along. "Almost?"

_Fantastic, she's looking at me in the mirror! She can't see what my hands are doing. _

Hermione jumped slightly when she felt his hand on hers, and something cold slip around her fourth finger. She held her hand up and saw the ring glinting on it.

"Now it's perfect." He whispered into her ear, his arms wrapping around her waist, while her eyes met his in the mirror, "Marry me, build a life with me, grow old with me, share my home and my bed and my name. Be my comfort and joy, and let me be yours until we quit this world."

In later years, he didn't know for sure that she ever actually said, 'Yes.' But he did know that by the time he finished speaking she was crying, and laughing, and had turned around in his arms and was kissing him, so he figured that was close enough.


	42. In Which We Attend A Ball

Chapter 45: In Which We Attend A Ball

Hermione and Snape were late for the ball, but, as Ginny noted when they entered, they both had a glow about them, a very satisfied glow. One that she was sure she remembered from the days before she and Harry had three little kids bouncing about their home. Apparently Harry remembered it too because he leaned over and whispered to her, "Remember when we used to be able to get a shag in during the day?"

"My mum has the kids tomorrow afternoon." They grinned lovingly at each other, while the other couple joined them at the table.

"You missed the…" Ginny's voice trailed off as she saw Hermione's hand. "Finally, let me see it."

Hermione gave her hand over and smiled very widely at her friends. "Wait. What do you mean finally?"

Now Harry, Ginny, and Severus were smiling, while Luna and Daphne drifted over to see.

"It's a very pretty ring, Hermione," said Luna.

"Congratulations!" added Daphne.

Neville came over and put his arms around his wives. "What's up?"

"Severus and Hermione finally got engaged," Harry said.

"What's with the finally? We've only been dating seven weeks." Hermione sounded a bit exasperated.

"Yes, well, Sev here had me design this ring for you three weeks ago, and he got it last week, and he's been 'waiting for the perfect moment' ever since. Which means Harry and I had to play dumb and wait for him to give it to you."

"You've known about this for three weeks and said nothing?" Her eyes flashed from Ginny to Harry and back to Severus.

"We didn't want to ruin the surprise." Harry smiled fondly at her. "Although," he said taking her hand to look at the ring, "Your man over there wouldn't let us see how it looked finished until he gave it to you." Harry looked at it critically. "That really is lovely, Ginny. When the kids are older maybe you'd want to start doing this as a business."

Daphne added, "I'd hire you design jewellery for me. Granted, not much reason to wear it when you work in a greenhouse, though…"

The conversation about the ring continued through dinner, with some half-joking planning of Ginny's post-baby future as a jewellery designer being batted about. Harry noticed that Severus didn't say much, but he looked confident and relaxed, and happy.

At one point during the dinner, when the ladies went to the restroom, Harry said to Snape, "You look immensely pleased with yourself."

Snape's lips slowly curved into a wide smile. "I am quite pleased with myself. I don't think this could have gone better if I had planned for a year."

"Rumour has it you can dance."

"Rumours are nasty little things. But that particular one happens to be true."

"Good, although I warn you, I intend to get at least one turn on the dance floor with Hermione."

"Only if I can dance with Ginny."

"That you'd have to ask her about. But if I had to guess, I'd say she'll agree to dancing with the newest member of our family."

"I'd have to say, never, ever, in my wildest dreams, or nightmares for that matter, did I ever foresee a future where you'd be my brother-in-law."

"Yes, well, it wasn't exactly on my list of childhood fantasies either." Harry smiled to soften the words. A second later the ladies reappeared.

"What wasn't one of your childhood fantasies?" Ginny asked.

"Ending up with Mr Smiley here as a member of the family." He jerked his head toward Snape.

"Mr Smiley?" Snape's eyebrow arched.

"You've been grinning all night."

"With good reason."

At that point the music began. Couples drifted out to the dance floor. In previous years the general mood would have been described as joyful, yet somewhat melancholy. The feeling of a job done well, but also of a life about to be left usually permeated the ball. This year found Hogwarts reeling with romance as well as the ups and downs of graduation. By the end of the first hour two more couples had gotten engaged, both of whom had only one member still at school.

When the third young man dropped to his knees, Snape was dancing with Ginny, who was fairly enthusiastic about dancing with the newest member of the extended Weasley Clan.

"It seems I wasn't the only one who thought this would be a good idea."

She smiled at him. "At least you had the good sense to do it before the dance."

"I had been planning on doing it here, but then she was standing in front of the mirror, and I knew it was the best time I was ever going to get."

"She told me about it while we were in the bathroom. Sounds like you did a good job."

"Thanks. Also, thank you for making this easier for me. I know that fitting with Harry and the rest of you would have been much harder without your help. Thank you for welcoming me."

"You're welcome, but it wasn't for your sake. I would have bent over backwards to help any man Hermione had taken an interest in into our family. She's been living in the past too much. I missed her joy. When she's happy, Harry's happier, and that makes my life so much better. So I suppose you could say I was helping myself by helping you. Or you could say that I am a firm believer in the idea that joy is contagious and we should do all we can to help spread it about. Now let me thank you. Thank you for helping to bring my friend back." They continued to move about the dance floor.

"Will you design a wedding tattoo for us?"

Ginny smiled. "Yes, I'll design one for you. Does Hermione know you're contemplating one?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure we'll discuss it at some point."

"Do you want me to do the rings as well?"

"Maybe, although I'm thinking a plain band would go best with my potions work. I wouldn't want something you had carefully designed turning black and bubbling because my hand got too close to the steam from a simmering cauldron. Plus I don't want to feel too bad if I need to vanish it off my hand in a hurry."

"Don't you wear gloves?"

"Yes, latex or dragonhide depending on how much dexterity I'll need. But you never know how things will react. I especially don't know because I'm no longer working with tried and true potions that any second year can brew."

They continued to chat about potions brewing. (Ginny had been rather good at it herself once upon a time, and used to help Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes keep up with the pre-school year rush.) As the song wound down they broke apart, found their own mates, happily dancing with each other, and switched.

Severus held Hermione a bit closer than was strictly necessary for a waltz. He gazed at her while they moved, then bent his head to hers, and kissed her.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes, I think I am. And you?"

He smiled widely. "Yes."


	43. In Which We Prepare For America

Chapter 46: In Which We Prepare For America

Hermione sat on their bed while Snape tossed clothing into the suitcase next to her. She was pleased to see that he owned a selection of warm-weather Muggle clothing that would not cause anyone to look twice while visiting America.

"Do you own a pair of bathers?"

"Ancient ones. Will there be swimming?"

"The Council has a pool, and I'd like to spend some time at the ocean. Willow's been trying to get me to visit the West Coast since we met. If you've got any interest, we could go there as well."

"I'm not feeling a burning desire to see the West Coast, but I would like to see New York. We could do both. Really, we can go anywhere; we've got time. I'm already ahead on the Dragon Calming Draught, and you aren't due back to school until 1st September."

Hermione thought about it. "We can ask around when we get to the Council. Most of them have been all over; they'll probably have some good suggestions." A thought flitted through her mind. "The Florida Keys. The last time I was at the Council, Buffy and Spike had just gotten back from there. They had pictures. I've never seen water that color. Or that many fish for that matter…"

Snape paused in his packing. "Once we get to the US how do you propose we go from place to place? Are you that proficient at blind apparition?"

"Actually, I am pretty good at blind apparition; I'm also handy behind the wheel of a car. I can get us to somewhere around New York and then we can rent a car, or catch a cab, or bus, or train, something will come up. We can walk or hitchhike if need be. As long as we've got our little plastic friends from Visa, we're good to go."

Severus walked over to the little silver cards on Hermione's bureau. He picked them up and looked at the one with his name on it. "Why do we have these again?"

"The Yanks look at you oddly if you try to pay for everything with cash. Some things, like gas and hotel rooms are just easier to deal with if you've got a credit card. You can't rent a car without one. And, I'm just not comfortable carrying the amount of cash around that we'd need for this trip."

"What on earth could rob us?"

"Severus," she sounded like she was talking to a young child, and he bristled at that. "Almost anyone at the Council would be more than a match for either of us, some of them could take both of us, and Willow wouldn't even have to blink. We're good fighters, we made it home from the war alive, but they're professionals. And they're the good guys. The reason they're at the level they're at is because the bad guys keep them on their toes."

She noticed he grumbled as he put the credit cards back. She didn't quite catch his words, but she was sure they were something along the lines of 'How good can they be?' _You'll see soon enough._

When he had put the cards back he began folding his clothing and laying it in a suitcase. "So tell me about your cadre of Wandless Witches. Why are they called the Watcher's Council? Kind of dumb name really."

_Like Hogwarts is so much better. _"Originally they were the Scoobies."

Vague memories of a cannabis drenched cartoon from his youth sprang to mind. "As in…"

"Yes."

"The Watcher's Council is sounding better by the moment."

"But as they grew, they needed an official cover. The Watcher's Council was always the overseeing body for the Slayer, so they took the name, and attached it to the school they started to keep people from asking why there was a big house with fifty girls in it just outside of Cleveland."

"What's the Slayer? That didn't show up in your book."

"Most of what goes on there didn't show up in my book. Magical education isn't the main reason for the Council to exist. It's really there because of some ancient and awful magic that enslaves girls into a destiny of demon fighting. The Slayer is the name of the girl who the magic chooses."

"Start at the beginning." Snape sat on the bed next to her, his packing forgotten.

"The beginning is a very long time ago. According to what they could find, man and demon used to both dwell on this planet. Man was able to wield magic to create a hybrid, a human with demon strength, healing, and fighting skill. This hybrid was called the Slayer. It's always a she, and always picked between the ages of thirteen and nineteen. The first Slayer was little more than a demon trapped in a human body, all fight and rage, and the men who made her were her Watchers. Their job was to make sure that she killed other demons, not other humans.

"Untold years have gone by, and the Slayers are almost entirely human now. The drive to fight, the healing and the strength are still there, but the human soul is now in charge. Each time a Slayer is killed a new one is called. Each time a Slayer was killed, her Watcher retired and a new one is sent to join the new Slayer. The Council was formed to keep Watchers trained and ready to go. The Council also made sure that some sort of big picture was kept in mind. According to Willow they had the finest, oldest library of occult texts ever assembled on Earth." Snape could hear the longing in Hermione's voice at the idea of that library.

"Then back in 1993 Buffy was called. She was a different sort of Slayer. She kept her friends. Her Watcher's cover was school librarian, so she stayed in school. She continued to live with her mother. She fell in love a few times. She kept her attachments, which is rare for a Slayer. Usually the secrecy that goes with being a Slayer makes ours look tame by comparison. But because she kept her attachments, she developed a team, like Ron and I for Harry. If you could imagine Dumbledore deciding that only he and Harry would fight off Lord Voldemort, you'd have an idea of how the Council usually ran things." She saw Snape wince at the idea. "Buffy didn't go for that.

"Buffy's team kept her alive, and brought her back when she died." Snape looked shocked. "Yes, it was a very bad idea, and yes, it is possible, but I don't think anyone besides Willow could, or would, pull it off. Willow's formidable. Imagine the kind of power Dumbledore put out, now multiply it by five, and now imagine it coming from a woman two years older than me. It's scary.

"Anyway, the last year they were in California, they finally hit something they couldn't beat back with just the core group. It went by The First. Willow tells me it's elemental evil, and I've got no reason to doubt her, other than I really don't like to believe that such a thing exists. The First's minions were killing off all of the potential Slayers. The idea being that if there were no remaining Chosen Ones when Buffy was killed, then the Slayer line would end, and that would be that. Evil wins, the demons take over, end of the world, yippee!

"The First took out a lot of the potential Slayers. The Council tracked down more of them, and they all ended up in California with Buffy and Willow. Then the original Council was destroyed; almost all of the members were killed. You remember that bombing in London back in 1997?" Snape shook his head no. "Me neither. I guess we were all busy with other things. The Watcher's Council was headquartered in London.

"After it was destroyed, and most of its resources with it, the Council in the form of Giles and a few other survivors went to California to join Buffy. It was there Willow found she could make all the potential Slayers into real Slayers. So she did. After a huge fight that destroyed an entire town, The First retreated, and there were fifty Slayers, all of whom needed a place to live, protection, and training. The next hot spot, called a Hellmouth, was in Cleveland, so they moved there and set up the new Watcher's Council. Officially it's a private school for exceptional girls and a very few boys. The brothers of the Slayers, and children of the Council who have some magical skills."

Snape just sat there. His mind had gone blank. Hermione gave him time to think. When Willow finally explained what exactly it was they did at the Watcher's Council Hermione had felt ill.

Finally he said, "These girls have no choice?"

"The magic picks them, and once it does every demon nearby starts hunting for them. They can join the Council, have a safe place to live, learn how to fight, and eventually become professionals, or they can be killed when the first demon, or vampire, or megalomaniac with dreams of Apocalypse finds them."

"How long do they fight?"

"Until they die. Buffy's in a sort of retirement at this point, but she's the first one to reach that point. She's one of the main teachers at the Council. Since moving to Cleveland, and revamping the training, they've gotten the average lifespan up to twenty years."

Snape did look ill at this point. "And we're just going to go visit for a bit, and drop off some students to help out? You're kidding right. We should be going to try and help them break this Slayer picking enchantment."

"You can try if you want. This magic has held for literally tens of thousands of years. I don't think it can be broken. What's more, Willow doesn't think it can be broken. So we work on making them better fighters, and on making sure more of them come home from each fight, and that they keep coming home longer. That's why I've been teaching wanded magic to those who can learn it. The kids we're taking over are going to set up a magical school and wand making shop. When Buffy was chosen the oldest Slayer ever was 22. Now they've gotten the average life span up to 20, and both Buffy and Faith are 26. Things are getting better."

"Not good enough if these girls are just being picked out of the ether to die."

"No, not good enough. But better than before. I think it will help when you see the Council and talk to them. Very few of the girls are upset about being chosen. Part of it is that they are very young; many of them don't know what they are giving up. But part of it is that they have a mission. They fight evil. Great, big, capital E, EVIL. And they do it well. Every day they know that there are people breathing who would not have been had they not gone out to do their jobs. Being the hero, when people go out of their way to make sure you get petted for it, can be a lot of fun."

"That's why it's always children. That's why Dumbledore got us young. God, if we had had the time to grow up. The time to think…" Snape shook his head, casting away the memories of the offer Dumbledore gave him at the age of fifteen and changed the topic.

"You've mentioned some names, but I still don't know who is who, besides Willow."

"Giles, Buffy, Xander, and Willow are the original four. Buffy was The Slayer, and is now A Slayer. She's the one who teaches some combat, and works on long range planning and strategy. Giles was her Watcher, and is now the man in charge of research and specialized training on how to identify Demons and what their weak spots are. Xander is Willow's best friend, and after the first Hellmouth, he moved to Cleveland with them, but retired from demon hunting. He runs a construction company and makes sure everyone gets over to his place for dinner on Sunday. He's the heart of the group, and probably the bravest man I've ever met. We talk about Harry, or any of us really, being brave, but we have no idea of what brave really looks like. Xander went into it with no magic, no special powers, just for the love of his friends, and he kept at it until he lost an eye and couldn't fight anymore. Willow, well I've told you a bit about Willow. Anyway, when Buffy moved to Sunnydale, she met Willow and Xander, and the three became close friends. Giles then took over Buffy's training, and ended up with three for the price of one. Seem familiar?" Snape nodded. "A few years into it, Willow discovered she could do magic, and she began to study.

"Time passed and they added a few more members. Oz, Willow's mate, was killed back in '96."

"Why didn't Willow bring Oz back?"

"She tried, it didn't work. Something about how Buffy died, she threw herself into a sucking vortex of doom that would have destroyed the world had it opened fully, allowed her to come back. Once again, strike you as somewhat familiar?"

"Hmmm… she doesn't have black hair and green eyes does she?"

"Blond hair and green-hazel eyes."

"Hmp."

"Anya and Spike make up the rest of the core team. Anya is married to Giles, and Spike is Buffy's man. Anya is another demon researcher, but these days her main focus is teaching mathematics and accounting. She might strike you as bit frank. That little thing that allows you to hear what you are about to say before you say it, she doesn't seem to have one of them. I understand she's better now than she used to be.

"Spike teaches combat, and literature, and history. He's… an interesting case. You'll meet him and see." Snape had the distinct impression that Hermione was leaving something out, but decided not to press it, when the time came he'd meet 'Spike.' _Bloody awful name. What kind of git goes around calling himself Spike? Wait… Slayers… Demons… Maybe he specializes in Vampires. Possible…_

"Let's see... what else? Both Giles and Spike are British. Giles is about your age and has similar taste in music. He should have gone to Hogwarts, but was trained by the Watcher's Council instead… At any given time there's about forty-five girls and a few boys at the school. Say fifty kids total. Unlike Hogwarts the Council teaches regular subjects as well. The Slayers all have night jobs, but they're also getting the training they need to keep a day one as well, should they want one. It won't be what you expect. It's much happier and more relaxed." She continued to think.

"Oh. This is important. Don't apparate onto or off of the property. You can't apparate at Hogwarts. You can do so at the Watcher's Council, but it's a trap. If you do it, you'll find yourself somewhere horrible. Apparently some wizard thought it would be a good idea to apparate his minions directly into the building to bypass the security. They made it into the building, and the group made sure that only bits of them ever went back to their leader. Since then Willow's rigged it so that if you apparate anywhere within 300 meters of the school, you'll be transported elsewhere."

"Are they attacked often?"

"Not as often as they used to. They've almost finished cleaning up Cleveland. Willow tells me they are planning on destroying the Hellmouth around Beltane this year. Then they'll close up shop and head to the next Hellmouth."

"Lovely."

She kissed him softly. "It's not as bad as you think. And if it is, I'll help you try to find a way to make it better. In the meantime, we've got packing to do."


	44. In Which We Meet The Watchers

Chapter 47: In Which We Meet The Watchers

"Are you all set?" Hermione asked.

The kids nodded. Severus didn't nod, but she knew he had been ready since breakfast. Hermione held out an old Frisbee. "Grab a hold." Six hands grabbed the Frisbee. Long distance Portkey travel was not much fun. The sensation was unpleasant to all but the strongest of stomachs. However, using a Portkey got them to the US in ninety minutes. Flying would have taken hours, and slide-along Apparition wouldn't work with this many passengers.

After a very long hour and a half, they found themselves standing on a corner in a residential neighborhood. The street was lined with old oak trees, and the houses looked like they were built around the turn of the century. All in all, they could have still been in England.

A young woman in a lilac tee shirt and jeans met them. Her hair was long and red. Her body was small and lean. Her smile was wide and bright. Her magical aura was so strong it made Snape want to close his eyes and take a step back.

"Hi. I'm Willow."

Hermione gave her a hug, and then began the introductions: "This is Amber, Rose, Dean and Benjamin. The dark one behind them is Severus." Willow shook hands with each of the kids, and then stopped at Severus.

She smiled brightly. "So, you're Hermione's new guy. Nice to meet you. I understand we'll be getting to spend some time together. I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do with your wand."

Snape wondered if that was an intentional double-entendre or not. He decided to pretend it wasn't. "And I am eagerly awaiting seeing you without one." He smiled back at her.

"You're a potions master?" Willow was looking up at him, a disconcerting blend of perkiness and power. He found himself thinking no one that cheery should have access to that level of power.

"Yes, for the last twenty years."

"How do they work? Is it like cooking, anyone with the recipe can do it, or does it actually require magic?"

Snape thought about it. Not only had he never wondered about it, but to the best of his knowledge, no one else had either. "I don't actually know. I don't think anyone without magical skills has tried to make one. It would be interesting to test."

"We don't have a potions lab here, but we could try some sort of a test. Some of the girls are almost anti-magic they're so unmagical, so they'd be good for testing. Do you have something simple we could try?"

"I used to teach eleven-year-olds. I've got potions that I can make in my sleep with only a flask, a flame, and three or four fairly common ingredients."

"Wonderful, we'll have to set that up for tomorrow or the next day." Willow smiled, and then moved towards the four younger newcomers. "So, let's see about getting you settled in your new home. What has Hermione told you about us?"

Snape and Hermione followed behind Willow and the kids.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked him quietly when they were a few steps behind.

"It was a very good question. I can't believe no one's ever asked it before."

"They live among the Muggles. We live apart. It's probably why none of us have ever thought to ask. I wonder what happens if we gave a wand to one."

"And now we've got the topic for your book after the great magical comparison."

Most of the buildings around them appeared to be houses, but in the distance they could just make out a larger building. It was tall, at least four stories, maybe more, and looked like a miniature castle. It was very obviously not a house. The property was enclosed by a large masonry wall, and at the front gate a discrete sign said, "The Watcher's Council School for Exceptional Children. Founded 1998."

At the gate two teenage girls in tank tops and yoga pants met them. "Kelly and June will show you to your rooms and give you the tour. They'll make sure you're all settled in," Willow said to the younger members of the party. Benjamin was looking like he was rapidly getting over his dislike of Americans, at least female, teenage ones. Dean looked like he had just fallen into a delicious dream. Amber and Rose looked ready to smack both of them.

As the four younger members of the party left, Willow turned to Severus and Hermione, and spoke to Hermione. "I've got you in your usual room. How about you drop off your stuff, and then meet me in my office. We're invited to dinner at Xander's which should be kicking off any minute now."

"That'll work for us."

"See you there."

Hermione led Severus through the gate to the double doors at the front of the building. He was aware of the noise first. Like any teacher he was familiar with the sounds of a school. This building did not sound like a school: slaps, crunches, crashes, metal banging against metal, and the occasional yelp of pain assaulted his ears. He jumped when he heard the first scream.

Hermione put her hand on his arm, and patted it. "It's just the sound of training. This floor has the gym, training rooms, pool, and combat arena. Once we get up the stairs where the sound is warded off, it'll sound like a regular school." Hermione could see that the part of Snape's mind that had spent too many years waiting to be attacked was on full alert. She hurried him up the stairs.

When they hit the top of the stairs the noise did change. The sounds that came to him were the ones he was used to: talking, laughing, an adult voice with a British accent telling teens to shut up and pay attention. _Much more like it._

"This is where the classrooms are and the visitor's quarters. The kitchen is in the back, and it opens out onto the back garden and outside training area. The floors above us are the dorms, the offices, and the library. You'll love the library." Hermione continued to lead him toward the back of the building.

The door she opened led them into a pleasantly decorated room with large windows. Snape walked over to the windows while Hermione dropped her bags on the bureau. From his vantage point, he could see a large garden broken into three sections. Closest to the house was a traditional English garden. Further back and to the right was an outdoor training area, where girls were doing something that looked like yoga, but the positions were a bit more complicated than the ones he was familiar with. To the left was an out building, a patio, and a very green lawn. In the far back there was a much smaller building. Based on the color of the wood walls, it was new.

Hermione joined him at the window. She wrapped her arms around him, and began to narrate the scene. "In the back the girls are doing something Buffy calls Slayercize. It's a hybrid of yoga, pilates, and aerobics. The idea is to keep them flexible, strong, and fast. On the other side is the grill and outside kitchen. It's mainly used for parties, taking advantage of lovely spring and summer nights. Right next to the house is Giles' garden. He's got prize winning roses in there. Oh, and I guess that newer building in the way back will be Dean's workshop. I bet he'll like that."

"Assuming he doesn't cut off any valuable bits of his anatomy while watching the girls exercise."

"Well, that's always a risk for the boys here. But so far none of them have been horribly maimed while girl watching. Smacked upside the head on occasion, but not maimed. Actually, it's very hard to disrespect girls who can break you like a toothpick. Dean and Benjamin will learn proper manners very quickly. I don't envy Benjamin; Rose looks like she's a bit on the jealous side."

"And what about you? Do you trust me among all these lovelies?" He was smiling as he asked. The question was almost a joke, but not quite.

"I trust you. And, I'd be alarmed if you didn't look. They're young, beautiful, in the best shape of anyone's life, and wearing very little clothing. If you don't see the beauty in them, how can you see it in me?"

Severus appreciated that answer to the depths of his soul, and was unsure of how to express it. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the shell of the ear. "I'll always see it in you."

"You're sweet." She kissed him back. Interest in testing out the bed in a way she never had before perked up nicely, along with the realization that they needed to go to dinner. She pulled back regretfully. "Shall we meet Willow and get to dinner?"

Severus looked interested in being late for dinner. But politeness won out. "Certainly."

* * *

Willow's office was two floors above them. Her door was open. Severus could see the witch sitting at her desk, reading a very old book. Her office was cluttered with candles, crystals, bunches of dried herbs, and many, many books. A huge map of the building and grounds was located on the right side wall. Little points of light moved around the map.

Years earlier he and Dumbledore had talked about being able to see the trace magic left. Most of the time Snape couldn't do it. Standing in Willow's office he realized that most of the time _at Hogwarts_, he couldn't do it. Just about everything in this room seemed to glow at him: the magical equivalent of jumping up and down waving a hand in the air. One piece caught his attention beyond the others: a small, blackened rock.

Willow watched him enter her office, and the careful way he looked at everything. He was staring at the charred remains of a crystal she had used in the failed ritual to bring her lover back to life. _Interesting, the darkest bit of magic in this room is what attracts him the most._

"May I?" Severus asked, his hand hovering over the crystal.

"Sure."

He picked up the stone and held it. It felt colder than it should: filled with sadness, longing, and failure. When he put it down he made sure to place it exactly as it had been when he picked it up.

"As I'm sure you've guessed, this is my office, the magical hub of the school. At any given time there are only twelve or so Slayers with magical skills, so most of the lessons are done in here as well."

"Which explains the cushions all over the floor?" Snape had been wondering why there were a dozen cushy pillows on the floor in front of the book cases.

"Yep. And the reason we're on the top floor. Most of the Slayers are best with air magic. I'm earth myself, hence all the crystals. We meet by the pool if we need to deal with water or the grill for fire."

"You use elemental magic? Hermione hasn't gotten very far in my training. Mostly we've been dealing with the implementation of will."

Willow looked like she approved. "That's the first lesson. But each person has an element that obeys them more easily. Hermione is earth, with a side of air. I'd guess you're air, with a healthy dose of water."

Snape thought about it. Water made sense, what with a lifetime of potions work. Air he wasn't as sure about.

She led them out of her office. "I'll give you the quick tour as we head toward Xander's place. Up here we have our offices. Giles and Anya are further down the hall. Buffy's over here." She gestured toward a closed door as they walked by. "And Spike has his in the basement." They turned a corner. "Here's the library. I'd show you the inside, but then we'd never get Hermione back out of it. Suffice it to say, there's lots of neat stuff in there. There's usually a few girls in there as well. If you decide you want to explore, they'll show you what's what and where it is. We just got a new translation of the Black Book of Mordicia. It's supposed to be more accurate than the last one."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "I can't wait. There's so much in that book that I wanted to check out further. Mordicia was a British witch who came to the US around the 1850's and began to turn the local magic into magic for a wand, but she didn't feel comfortable committing it to writing, so she wrote everything in a hybrid of nine languages, only six of which were human. It's a most frustrating read."

"She was half bonkers too, that's part of why she's hard to read. Anyway, a colleague back in California took a swing at it, and produced a work that's almost readable," Willow added. She took them past more rooms, (classrooms, guestrooms) and down to the third floor.

"This is the dorm. The girls live here, two to a room. The lack of privacy bugs them, but we have a buddy system here. Someone always needs to know where you are. Dean and Amber will have rooms here. We set up Benjamin and Rose on the fourth floor in one of the suites. Newlyweds deserve some privacy." Willow turned to face them, walking backwards with the practiced ease of someone who had lead a lot of tours around the campus. "Speaking of which, have you two set a date yet?"

Snape answered, "Not yet, but we have until October 31st."

"I was thinking later in the fall. Actually a Halloween wedding has a certain appeal to it." Hermione looked at Snape while she spoke.

"Really?" He looked intensely dubious.

"Yes."

"I wouldn't have thought Halloween was high on the romance factor." He shook his head. Hermione had a feeling there was something else, but whatever it was, it wasn't able to come to the front of her mind.

Willow continued to point out bits of interest, like the fact that all the rooms on the third floor had huge windows that allowed vast amounts of sunlight in. An added protective measure for the girls. They went down another flight of stairs.

"Here's where most of the learning happens. Our girls usually have at least an eighth grade education, so we don't have to spend too much formal classroom time on traditional studies, unless one of us likes to teach it. Anya does math and finance. She's got some of them so well trained that they're paying for themselves on their stock picks alone. Some of the others are planning on opening businesses when they get sent out. Spike still loves poetry and literature, so he teaches it, although his classes look more like jam sessions than anything I took in high school. He does post-Victorian history for the girls who want it. In addition to magic, I teach some science and computer programming. You never know when the ability to hack into the local police database will come in handy."

They once more descended to the first floor. The noises of combat had been replaced with the sounds of laughing, talking girls. Fifteen or so of them walked by in a group, and Snape caught snatches of conversation about fighting technique, dinner plans, and lip gloss staying power. _This has got to be the most surreal experience of my life._

"This is what sets us apart from other schools. Our super-duper ninja training stuff is down here. I don't do much down here, but every now and again I'll spar with the girls to show them what a magical opponent can do."

"Sparring?" Snape had a hard time envisioning Willow fighting anything. Yes she radiated magical power the way the sun radiated light, but she also had a deep serenity about her.

"It's kind of like duelling, but less formal, no rules. Well, no rules for them. I figure if I let one of them hurts me, it's my own fault. Hermione got pretty good at it while she was staying here."

Snape cocked his head at her. Hermione gave him a half smile. "There's a certain satisfaction that comes from using your body as well as your mind. I'm not a match for any of the girls fist to fist, but they were nice enough to let me play with them. That's how the idea of fist and wand working together came up. In addition to teaching some basic wanded magic, I usually spend some time in the gym and run the yearly Defeat Voldemort Challenge."

"What's the Defeat Voldemort Challenge?" Snape asked, fairly sure he knew the answer.

Willow smiled at them. "The girls love it. Hermione left us with a description of Voldemort, what his skills and strengths were, and what needed to be done to defeat him. Then, each year, the new girls can enter a plan to defeat Voldemort. We use it to teach beginning tactical thinking. This year the prize is a whole day off, access to one of the cars, and two hundred dollars to go out and have some fun. Some of them have been planning for six weeks. Beth won't tell us what she's up to but she's been in the library every free moment. She really wants to get the car."

They were outside now, heading down the street. Snape was wondering where they were going.

"Xander lives about half a mile away." Hermione told him as he looked over the street and houses around them.

"Which one is Xander?" Severus whispered to Hermione.

"Willow's best friend. He's retired from demon fighting and runs a local construction company now," she responded quietly.

As they walked, Willow told Severus about the first time Hermione came to the Council, and how after several very intense weeks of trying to make the magic obey her and not having much luck at it, she finally snapped, went to the gym, and beat one of the punching bags into a pulp.

"She finally let her fire out, and the next day she was floating pencils with the best of them."

Hermione laughed. "I was beating that bloody pencil in my head. We spent hours with that damn thing, and it just wouldn't move. I had baby Slayers to the right and left, and their pencils are floating about, spiking pretend Vampires, but my pencil just sat there. I hadn't felt that useless since the first day of Divination." Hermione looked rueful. "I realized they all spent time in the gym beating on things, so why not give it a try? Plus I was in a record breaking bad mood. Well, it did help the bad mood. Endorphins are wonderful. One of the girls, Rachel, asked if I'd like to give a live opponent a try. I said sure, and she showed me how to make a proper fist and punch, what kind of stances you use. Then she let me swing at her while she ducked. After several moments of not even getting close to her, I asked if she'd like to try fist against wand.

"I think that was the first fun I had had since the war ended. I wasn't trying to hurt her, and she found ducking spells more interesting than ducking my fist. The rules were simple, if she touched me, she got a point. If I landed a spell, just a minor stunning spell, then I got a point. We played to ten.

"The next day I could float a pencil, and I had three other girls who were interested in sparring with me. You liked duelling didn't you?" Hermione asked Snape.

"I liked showing what an abysmal wizard Lockhart was. Duelling wasn't exactly my favourite sport at Hogwarts, but I could probably be prevailed upon to try my hand at sparring. I don't suppose anyone has tried to introduce Quiddich to your girls."

"Oh God," Hermione moaned. "Not more Quiddich. They really don't have the place to play. Maybe if they opened a school off in the middle of nowhere…"

"Our next school will be in New Orleans, even less of the middle of nowhere then this one is. Plus, knowing our girls we'd never get them off of a broomstick once they got on one. Part of why they're working so hard on the Defeat Voldemort challenge this year is that with a car and money they can get to Cedar Point and ride the roller coasters," Willow said.

They continued to talk of the eventual relocation of the Watcher's Council while walking the last few blocks to Xander's house.

They stopped in front of an arts and crafts style bungalow. "One rule at Xander's house, although maybe rule isn't the right word, guideline is probably better. We try not to talk shop there. General discussion is fine, but what we're going to kill tomorrow isn't. Xander is enjoying an immensely well deserved retirement, and we don't want to tempt him back into demon hunting."

At which point the door opened and a large man, wearing jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and an eye patch opened the door. "Don't believe a word of it. I just don't like hearing the icky details anymore. I've had more than enough gore for three lifetimes."

"Hello Xander." Hermione went to him and gave him a big hug. He gave her a friendly peck on the forehead. Snape felt himself stiffen. He was looking at a one-eyed, black haired, Ronald Weasley. _Does she not see it? _

"Hello yourself Herms. This must be Severus." Xander offered his hand, and Snape shook it, still feeling a bit unsettled by this newest member of the gang, but starting to relax as he noticed how different the speech patterns were. "Welcome to La Casa Harris. Everyone else is here. Well, almost everyone. Anya won't be making it; Giles' tells me she's too tired, and even the mention of food makes her want to puke."

Hermione looked from Xander to Willow. "Anya's expecting?"

Both were smiling. "She's eight weeks preggers. You've never seen Giles so happy. She's, well, 'mood-swing,' is the term to keep in mind when you see her. But for the most part she's happy," Xander answered.

They walked through the foyer into a sitting room. A large TV sat on one wall, and beneath it was a sound system. In front of it stood three people arguing in a friendly manner about the music. In the centre was a small woman who looked to be just a bit older than Hermione. She had long golden hair, green eyes, and a sad little pout on her face.

"But we always listen to your music…" she was saying.

To the left of her was a man a bit older than Severus, his hair a combo of brown and gray. He was cleaning the lenses of his glasses while replying to the girl, "We always listen to my music because if we let you choose we'd be listening to Britney Spears or some other painful atrocity that purports to be music." Although he was dressed casually in jeans and a button down, his speech patterns put Snape in mind of tweed and primary school lessons of proper elocution.

Buffy made an indignant squeak, while Xander looked at Severus, "The two arguing about the music are Buffy and Giles. The one behind Buffy, hugging her, is Spike."

"He's right, Luv. You do have tragic taste in music," the man holding Buffy said. He also looked to be about Severus' age, but with bleached white hair, a black tee-shirt, black nail polish, and black jeans, he was dressed in a very different style. And a very different accent, close to what those elocution teachers had been trying to break them of. _So these are our ex-pats: Yobbo and the Toff. Interesting._

Xander spoke up: "But as you remember the rule in my house is the guest chooses the music, so, since this is Sev's first visit, hand him the remote and let him pick."

The three turned to Severus, introduced themselves, and then the Toff, _Giles, Rupert Giles, but everyone calls him Giles, _handed him the remote. Giles and Spike then went off to say hi to Hermione, while Buffy stayed with him.

Snape looked at the remote blankly. He knew how to use a CD player. He knew how to use most stereo equipment, but this was new.

"You'll have to help me out here. I don't know what this is."

"It's Xander's newest toy. Satellite radio. Three hundred channels of commercial free music," Buffy answered him.

The idea of three hundred channels left him gobsmacked. That was too much of a good thing. "How do you find what you want to listen to in under three hours?"

"You tell it what you want, and then it gives you options. I like dance music, not Britney Spears, thank you." She and Giles exchanged looks across the room. "So I go through the menu, and tell it dance, and then it gives me the seven channels that do dance music. Then flip through them, and it's easy to pick." She showed him how to use the menu, and Snape began flipping about. Several minutes later, when the opening notes of Behind Blue Eyes filled the room, both Spike and Giles sighed with relief.

Snape walked over to Hermione, who was helping Xander with something rich and spicy smelling, "That is bloody brilliant, we need to get one of those when we get home." His nose perked up. "What are you making? It smells wonderful."

"I asked my two British authorities, 'What do I make well, but is hard to get in England?' They both recommended Mexican. You're smelling turkey with mole sauce. The tamales are already done. And since I wasn't sure if you'd like this kind of food there's also fajitas warming in the oven. They're pretty mild and gringo friendly."

"Do you need help?" Severus asked.

"Not really, at this point it's a matter of sticking things in bowls and putting them on the table. Go out and mingle with the others. I'm sure you just made Giles' day. That's one of his favourite songs."

Snape went back into the living room to join the others. He caught the tail end of Giles' story about dealing with a hormonally-crazed pregnant woman. He made sure to offer the correct congratulations and then the five of them stood there in a somewhat awkward silence.

"So, another classic rock fan?" Buffy finally said as the music moved to Pink Floyd.

"It's hard not to be if you grew up in the seventies in Britain. I'm sure these two have told you a bit about it," Severus answered.

"I was living in London at that point. I stood in line for three hours to get a copy of Animals the day it came out." Giles eyes were soft with the memory.

"That was a great album," Snape agreed.

"Great guitar, thought too much of itself, otherwise. I was in New York in the seventies. If you wanted music, that's where you needed to be," Spike added. "The clubs…"

Severus thought it was a little odd that Spike, who didn't look that much older was clubbing in New York in the seventies, but maybe he had aged well. The three of them continued to discuss the merits of London versus New York and Punk versus straight Rock and Roll until Xander called out that dinner was ready.

"You liked Rod Stewart?" Spike asked Severus, a disbelieving look in his eyes.

"If you were a skinny kid with bad hair and an unfortunate nose, Rod was a god." Severus answered as they sat at a table groaning with good things to eat. Spike looked thoughtful at that.

Xander presided over the table. "It's pretty informal here, just pass and grab." Snape took a bit of everything, watching how the others ate. Most of the meal was wrapped into tortillas and eaten with fingers. It was spicy, but as a fan of both curry and Thai food it wasn't too hot, just different. Good different.

The conversation drifted about. Everything from food, to some new TV show called House, to the local politics got covered over the course of the two hours in front of the table. By the end of the meal everyone was feeling relaxed, and due to the presence of margaritas, rather mellow, if not outright silly.

Severus was pleasantly full, tired from a very long day, and thinking that he could get used to the idea of going to people's homes for good food and conversation on a somewhat regular basis. _This is what it must be like to have friends. Must remember to thank Hermione for that as well…_

Willow was watching them more carefully than the others. When she noticed that Snape looked a bit glazed and Hermione hadn't said anything for ten minutes, she said, "I think our guests are tired. Time to get them home."

"Sleep sounds very, very good right about now," Hermione added.

As they walked through the quiet neighborhood, the cool air helped to revive Severus. An idea popped into his head and wouldn't work its way out. "Just about everyone who comes here teaches your girls something," he said to Willow.

"Just about, but don't worry, you don't have to if you don't want to. Hermione mentioned that teaching wasn't exactly your favourite pastime."

"It wasn't worried, but I was thinking: do any of your girls know anything about Occlumency?"

Willow thought for a moment. "Mind blocking, right?"

"Yeah."

"Some have a natural talent for it, but beyond that we don't do much with it."

"Do they fight telepathic or empathic creatures?"

"Sometimes."

"I can teach them all how to get better at it. It's not really magic even. It's just discipline. Any of them who want to learn can."

"That could be useful. Tomorrow at breakfast we'll talk about it and see if anyone is interested. Breakfast is at eight. See you then." Willow had paused at the gate to the Watcher's Academy.

"Aren't you going in?" Hermione asked.

"Not yet. For those of us who woke up in this continent, it's still pretty early." Willow nodded and headed back towards Xander's.

"You want to teach Occlumency?" Hermione asked Severus as they walked up the stairs, past Slayers in various states of relaxation. Hermione waved at Amber who was sitting with one group of girls watching TV. They saw Dean on the next floor playing cards with another group. No sign of Rose or Benjamin, but perhaps they, too had gone to bed.

"I was thinking about what I had to offer them. They don't have a potions lab, so that limits my usefulness there. What I know about spying isn't likely to help people who don't infiltrate. Then I remembered the one time I fought Harry. I knew every move he was going to make before he did because he couldn't control his mind. Maybe these girls have similar issues, and that is something I can help with."

They reached their room. Hermione kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the bed. "It feels so good to lie down." She was quiet while Snape undressed to join her.

"I can't think of a nice way to ask this, so here goes: will you use the same abysmal technique you used with Harry?"

"Merlin, no! I actually want these girls to learn Occlumency. The whole point of working with Harry was to open his mind wide and use him to flush Voldemort out of hiding."

"Oh." She frowned.

"I take it you don't approve."

"Yes, but that wasn't what I was thinking about. I know you were acting on Dumbledore's orders. I was remembering Ron saying that you were trying to open Harry's mind wider, and telling him 'Of course not, don't be silly, Snape's one of the good guys.'"

"Weasley was right on that one. I guess he was more alert than I gave him credit for." He lay down next to Hermione on their bed. "So, you really like the idea of a Halloween wedding?"

"You don't?"

"Not really. Bonfires, ghosts, floating pumpkins, and costumes does not say 'romantic joining of two people in a lifelong bond' to me."

"Do you have a better day?"

"Any other day?" They continued to bounce ideas for a wedding date around until both of them drifted off to sleep.


	45. In Which We Explore Snape's Element

Chapter 48: In Which We Explore Snape's Element

The twenty-second of June, 2004 dawned bright and clear. Sunlight poured into the room Hermione and Severus shared. Snape wanted to be asleep. He was certainly tired, but the sunlight, the strange room, and the unfamiliar bed all conspired to keep him awake. He grumbled quietly to himself as he entered the en suite bathroom, and began to run the shower.

He stood under the spraying water and wondered about what today would bring. He hadn't tried to teach anyone anything in more than seven years. Occlumency and teenage girls might not have been his best idea ever. _How many margaritas did I have last night? I'm not hung over, so it couldn't have been that many. It seemed like a good idea at the time. With any luck it will seem like a good one tonight as well._

He hung his head back and let the water rinse his hair. _Water. Willow thinks I'm air and water. Well, water has always been my willing tool. But air? You like to fly. _An old memory stirred. He had broken the branch and dropped it on Petunia Evans. Both of the girls had left in a huff. He was angry: angry at Petunia for ruining what was shaping up to be a lovely afternoon with Lily, angry at Lily for leaving him, angry at himself for dropping the branch on Petunia, and amid all that anger the wind started. Within minutes the leaves were whipping about, and branches were clashing against each other. He had run home, getting indoors only seconds before the storm broke. _Did I cause that storm? Water and Air. A thunderstorm certainly fits._

He stepped out of the shower and dried off. A moment's rummaging through his bag found him a shirt, pants, socks, and trousers. He stepped out of the bathroom, left a note for Hermione, and decided to go explore.

He found himself walking down a rather long hallway, at the end of which sunlight poured through double doors. As he walked towards the doors, he noticed the kitchen to his right. Breakfast might not be until eight, but it appeared that coffee, tea, and snacks were served around the clock. He stepped in and grabbed a cup of coffee to tide him over until breakfast.

He took his coffee to the garden, and found that Giles really had managed to transport a bit of England to the States. He settled into a wrought iron chair and sipped his coffee. The scent of roses, dew, freshly cut grass, and summer all wove around him. To his left five girls and one boy were doing some sort of morning exercises. As he sipped his coffee, he could almost imagine he was at some sort of exclusive spa.

Almost. Two girls walked by him to enter the house, covered in some sort of foul-smelling, greenish-yellow slime talking about what an excellent job they had done killing the Graflak demon. He was half way to springing up to offer them aid, when one stopped, looked at him, smiled and said in a breezy young voice, "Hi Mr Snape. You havin' a good mornin'?"

"Yes, quite lovely. Thank you for asking. And you?"

"A little sticky, but nothin' a shower and change of duds won't fix."

"You aren't hurt?"

The Slayer looked appalled and amused at the idea. "Hurt? The day a Graflak demon can do more than slime us is the day we need to retire." The other girl gave him a smile as well, and they headed into the school.

_Roses and slime. There are similar odd juxtapositions when making potions. Thinking of which, I need an easy one for the test. An anti-nausea potion for Anya would do the trick. Four ingredients, and if they can make tea, they can make the potion. _

He was finished his coffee and spent more time thinking about how to teach Occlumency in a week rather than months.

The morning exercise class broke up and walked past him towards the kitchen. Most of them smiled or waved, and one stopped to invite him to join them for breakfast.

"Thank you, but I'll decline for now. I need to go see if Hermione is awake."

She was. Hermione entered the kitchens from the inside door just as he entered from the outside. He walked over to her, gave her hand a squeeze, and then the two of them grabbed some breakfast.

He had just finished buttering his toast when Willow joined them. They spent a few moments in casual chit chat before planning the day.

"Hermione's got a usual schedule when she's here: Wand work in the morning. An hour or so of wandless in the afternoon with me. Then the rest of the time between then and dinner is spent working with the girls. And today's the first part of the Defeat Voldemort Challenge, right?"

"Yes. I had two girls ask me questions as I was walking to breakfast. They really are keen this year," Hermione said while cutting her pancakes into precise pieces.

Willow smiled. "Money seems to sharpen their ability to pay attention. Plus winning has become something of a status symbol. If you're all set?" Hermione nodded. "The question is: what to do with Mr Snape?"

"I'd like to be there for the Defeat Voldemort Challenge. I may have some information to add. As for the rest of our time here, I'd like to try my hand at teaching some Occlumency, and the potions test seemed interesting. An anti-nausea potion might be exactly what Anya needs to perk her back up, and they are simple enough that anyone who can make tea should be able to make one. Add a little sparring to that, some time working with you on wandless magic, and a few of Xander's excellent tamales and that will do me."

"My morning is free, since Hermione will have my students, so how about we meet at the pool."

Snape's eyebrows furrowed. "The pool?"

"Elemental Magic 101: Water for Wizards. Wear your swim suit." Willow grinned at him.

* * *

It wasn't that Snape didn't like to swim. He did. It was that he always felt there was something supremely undignified about walking about in his bathers. Part of him, the part that was ignoring he was in a building filled with teenage girls, would have rather just gone naked. But the majority of his mind was well aware of the occupants of the building, so in a black, mid-thigh length bathing suit, he walked to the pool.

Thankfully none of the girls he passed giggled. That might have sent him looking for his cloak. Nothing like billowing, black fabric to say, "I command respect." He reached the pool a moment later and saw Willow waiting for him.

Well, if he was going to have to wear shorts, at least he'd get to learn something useful, and spend the time with a pretty girl in a violet one piece.

"Hop in. We keep the water pretty warm." Willow slid into the water elegantly.

Snape followed and found it was nicely warm. "Now what?"

"You float. I'll talk."

"I can do that." And he could. He was rather good at just laying suspended in the water, especially for someone with so little body fat.

"After her first year here, Hermione gave me a wand. I spent some time playing with it, and figured out why they work so well. All magic is elemental. It fits, broadly, into one of four categories, earth, wind, water, fire. Your wand, and all the other ones I've seen, is a construct designed to balance the energies in the manner most useful for the Wizard. Wood is water and earth bound together. What's the core of yours?"

"Dragon heartstring."

"And there's your fire and air. The wand is purposely somewhat out of balance so that it will function properly with the magic of the person wielding it. Once it and you are together, you become a perfectly balanced magical creature. That's why they never work quite right with the wrong person.

"The trick to magic without a wand is that you need the will to make it happen, and you need the balance to do it without massively awful consequences."

"Explain massively awful consequences," Snape said, lifting his head from the water.

"Say I want to light a fire. It's easy enough. I could just focus all the heat in an area into what I want to burn. That'll cause a fire and freeze everything nearby. Or if I keep my balance and move a little heat from a large number of places, I still get my fire, and I don't end up with frostbite to go with it."

Snape wanted to get up and talk to Willow properly. Half drowning as he turned his head in the water to see her was annoying. He half stood as he said, "No frostbite sounds like a good plan."

Willow gestured at the water to let him know to stay down. "We know you've got the will. If you can keep your mind shut as well as Hermione says you can, will won't be a problem. That leaves learning the elements and feeling them. Elemental magic breaks into three parts. The tool: which for you appears to be water. The personality: which I picked air for, because that's the element of the mind, but that's not certain, yet. And then the balance of all four together for more complex workings.

"Once you let go of the wand, you need to find the feel of the magic around you. Water is the easiest of the four to get a handle on because you can start like this, floating in it."

"So what do I do?"

"Lay back, float, and when you can feel the power of the water, when you can make it do what you want to with your will, then it's time to find me and talk some more."

"How do I know it's obeying me?"

"Make it let you sink and float you up again."

That was a remarkably unuseful set of instructions. Snape stood up, water dripping off of him. "Is this how you usually teach?"

Willow grinned, and he had a feeling that there was something in the back of her mind unsaid about Karma. "This is how I teach people who already know what to do, but just haven't done it yet. Go float, feel the water. If you're not out by lunch, I'll send Hermione to fetch you."

Willow slid back out of the water. Snape settled back to float. He didn't know how long had passed, but slowly the realization of there being more than just water in the pool hit him. First came the awareness of the currents, of how everything around him moved. Then came the awareness of the water within him moving in synch with the water without. Then, slowly, came the awareness of power. At one point he opened his eyes and saw the glow of the water around him. He smiled and closed his eyes.

_I've got the feel of it. Now make it do what I want it to do. Sink and float back up. _He imagined the feel of the water engulfing him, saw through it in his mind's eye, held his breath, and began to sink. _Hold it. _He settled on the floor of the pool and stayed there for a short time. A feeling akin to ecstasy washed through him. When his lungs began to burn he set his will to rising. Within seconds he was once more floating on the surface, a wide grin on his face.

He swam to the side of the pool and heaved himself out. Once his legs were supporting his full weight, he realized how remarkably tired he was. The last time he had felt this kind of muscle strain, he had hiked twelve kilometres looking for a rare herb on the fen.

Snape sat next to the pool, his feet dangling in the water, collecting his strength, and looked at his wand. He touched its ebony wood: water and earth made one. He closed his eyes and let it sit in his hand. For the first time he felt the energy moving through it. He felt its perfect balance in his hand, and how right it felt there.

For some time he sat there, becoming reacquainted with his wand. Eventually he stood up, and began the long walk to Willow's office. _Maybe a quick nap before lunch._ He took a few more steps, his feet dragging._ Maybe a long nap._

By the time he had gotten to the second floor, Snape had decided in favour of the nap. He was too tired to make it all the way to the fourth floor. With a sigh, he settled into bed, set his wand to wake him before lunch, and slipped into sleep.

* * *

Two hours later he found Willow in her office. She smiled up at him. "I was just about to send Hermione to rescue…" Then she really saw him. "You got it."

He was smiling. In fact, he noticed he was having a hard time keeping a straight face. "I think I did. It took about an hour, but afterwards I was so knackered I needed a nap."

"No wonder, that's a huge amount of progress for one hour." She continued to look at him further. "It's not just water is it?"

"I don't think so. I spent some time with my wand, feeling its energies, and how it works. And your office feels different this time, looks different." The small blackened crystal called out to him again, but this time he just watched it.

"There's something different about that stone. Something I can't characterize."

"Yes, there is. Let it rest for now. I don't want you burning yourself out with too much too fast. Take the rest of today easy: lots of food, lots of rest. You'll have some pretty intense dreams tonight. That's the second part, finding the element of your personality. The dreams will let you know." She stood, and they began to leave her office.

"Oh, you might be feeling a bit more emotional than usual. It's a side effect from the large amounts of water energy. It'll dissipate over the next few hours as you slide back toward your usual balance."

They walked down to lunch, talking about his experience in the pool. Hermione was already at a table, waiting for them. Snape ate quietly, watching the world around him more carefully than he usually did. He could see Hermione's warm brown earth energies and her light yellow air ones. He looked back at Willow. There was also the brown of earth, and something else, something like that stone, something different.

When Willow left, Hermione took his hand in hers. "Seeing the world differently?"

"Very much so. It's like yesterday I was colour-blind, and today I'm not. You really are beautiful, you know? All warm, silky browns and yellows."

She smiled at him and kissed him softly. Some of the girls sitting nearby made little ahhh sounds.

"So are you."

He held her hand to his, and raised it to his lips. Inhaling her scent before he kissed her wrist where her pulse throbbed.

"Let's go upstairs."

She smiled back at him, "Yes, let's."

* * *

Afterward, Hermione joined Willow to work on more advanced wandless magic. Severus had intended to take Willow's advice and lay about. That lasted all of ten minutes. He was still physically tired, but his mind was more alert than it had been since the war. There was so much to learn, so much to see, so much more out there than he had imagined before. He found himself walking toward Dean's workshop, bare feet caressing the grass covered earth.

Dean's shop had a whole side that opened. In that way, it put Snape in mind of a car park. Inside, Dean was placing pieces of wood on different shelves. On one wall sat a large bureau with many small drawers. Chisels of all shapes and sizes lined the opposite wall. In the centre sat a lathe.

"How do you make wands?"

Dean jumped, dropping the piece of wood he was holding. "Mr Snape, I didn't hear you come by." He saw Snape's bare feet. "Don't come in here, lots of splinters. Did you say you want to know how to make a wand?"

"Yes."

"In general, you take two halves of a piece of wood, chisel out a thin line for the core, place the core, glue it up, and then put it on the lathe to shape it."

"How about in specific?"

"Sorry, that's a trade secret."

"How do you know which wood to use with which core?"

Dean shook his head.

Snape's post-water-energy-glow was rapidly fading. "Look, I don't want to go into business for myself, I just want to know because…" He felt silly explaining himself to the boy and turned to leave.

Dean called out, "It's not that I won't tell you. It's that I can't. You just feel it. You hold a piece of wood and a unicorn tail hair, and you feel it. You know they match, or you know they don't. Same as when you pick up a wand the first time. You know when you've got the right one. When you hold the wood, you know what it wants to become. You just feel it." Snape looked at Dean and saw the strong earth energies, as well as the other three nicely playing about him.

"Thank you." He turned to leave once more. Fear began to creep up on him. The implementation of will was not a problem for him. He lived in his head and by his mind for longer than not. But this new magic was all about feeling. All about emotion and rightness: it couldn't be learned or read, only experienced._ This is life and love and pain and fear and finding a balance between all of those things. Feeling all those things. It's too much. Retreat Severus!_ _This might be another reason Willow wanted you to slow down. Maybe it's time to go to the gym and wait for the start of the Defeat Voldemort Challenge._

The Defeat Voldemort Challenge would be held in the gym. The one room everyone could easily fit into.

According to Hermione the game began with the question and answer session. The girls could ask any background question they wanted to. Each year they asked, and each year, Hermione added the answers to their questions to her folder of Voldemort facts. The next year the new girls studied the folder and got new questions ready.

As he entered the gym, pounding dance music hit his ears. Several different fights were taking place around the gym. The one in the centre caught his eye. Three of the girls were fighting Spike. The first thing he noticed was the speed. During the year he was writing, he had often been bored, sometimes to the point of watching Jet Li movies on telly. These four looked like they were in Kiss of the Dragon. He had never imagined humans being able to move like that without the aid of computers, wires, and high tech movie cameras. The second thing he noticed was how Spike kept the girls off balance, using them to block each other. He had succeeded in making sure one of them was always in the way of another one. Third, he noticed the girls weren't landing many of the hits they were aiming. Spike was just a hair faster than they were, but it was a hair that mattered.

After a moment, as if he knew Severus was watching him, Spike looked up, waved at him and neatly flipped the Asian girl over his shoulder into the brunette. They fell to the floor, tangled with each other. He spun on his left leg, and caught the standing Slayer in the shoulder with a roundhouse kick. She fell backwards. He followed through, landing on both feet facing Snape, his black leather trench coat billowing behind him. _There's man who knows how to use a coat!_

"That's enough for now, Luvs. Go practice with each other for a bit. Got to say hello to a friend."

He walked over to Snape, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his coat. He offered one to Snape, who shook his head, and then lit up.

"Here to watch us fight?"

"Here to kill some time before the Defeat Voldemort Challenge."

Spike glanced at the girls. "The bits have been twittering about it all day. New ones asking the old ones about who won last year, and what tactics she used, and all that. Horrible cheater, the lot of 'em!" He said the last bit with a raised voice, and some of the girls turned to grin at him. Others just waved him off, one with a grin and a rude hand gesture.

"Teaching them bad manners?" Severus nodded at the petite blond with two fingers extended.

"Not that one. She's from Kent originally."

"Ahh... And you allow that?

"Encourage it. Don't want them being too polite and obedient."

While Spike was speaking, Snape noticed something: he wasn't sweating. "Doesn't the heat bother you? It's a great coat, but I'd think you'd rather fight without it."

"Heat doesn't bother me, and the coat helps to keep the bits focused."

"How did you learn to fight like that?"

"Lots and lots of experience." Spike inhaled on his cigarette. He exhaled, yelled to one of the girls about her form, and it was at that moment that Severus realized that Spike not only wasn't sweating, he wasn't winded. Snape looked closer. Spike wasn't breathing. A cold chill prickled at his spine.

"Define lots and lots."

"She didn't tell you did she?" Spike shook his head. "About a hundred and twenty years. Everyone around here is so used to me; they sometimes forget to mention it to newcomers. The Slayerettes find it especially disturbing at first."

Severus was sure he knew what the answer was, but he had to ask all the same, "What do they find disturbing?"

"I'm a vampire. Look, mate, it's a fairly long story, but the quick version goes something like this: I fell in love and decided to become a better man. You can understand that. The things we do to win the women we love. I joined the White Hats, got my soul back, fought the good fight, and then came back to her, and by that point she was ready for me."

Snape was quiet. Part of him wanted to scream and run away. Part of him wanted to attack. And part of him was remembering one of the best conversations about music he had had in years. Spike stood impassively in front of him, sucking on his cigarette. He waited to see how the small battle in Severus' head about what he knew about vampires, and what he knew about Spike fought its way to a conclusion. Finally Severus said, "I can understand that, I've done some things myself to get a woman to love me."

"We all have. Well, any of us who have really loved one of them. Speaking of which…" His gaze fell across the room. Buffy, Hermione, Willow, and ten girls entered the gym.

The women joined them, and Spike looked at Hermione. "You forgot to tell your man about me. Gave him a bad shock today."

Severus shrugged. He didn't want it to sound like he had shrieked like a little girl or anything. "Not too bad. Just a moment where I wasn't sure I was seeing what I thought I was."

Hermione looked somewhat chagrined. "Sorry about that. It's pretty easy to forget." She turned to Spike. "It's not like you stalk about in a black cape, seducing young girls, sucking their blood and sleeping in a coffin. As long as no one looks too closely at what's in your coffee cup, there really aren't any tells."

"Other than the whole doesn't sweat or breathe thing," Snape said under his breath. Spike grinned, and Hermione looked somewhat off put.

"It's not like you noticed last night."

"True, but it's easy to miss that someone doesn't breathe when they're talking to you and eating. Much simpler to spot after a workout when you'd expect him to be winded."

"Hmp." Hermione quickly changed the subject, "Ready to see what they can come up with? It's deeply painful to see how bad Dumbledore was at running the Order, but if there's a next time, we'll be more than ready."

As the girls continued to file in, Spike couldn't resist one last bit: "Mate, that wasn't much of a workout. We were only sparring for eighty minutes."

"Which would be more than long enough to make my heart explode," Severus answered him.

"One of the benefits of being dead." Spike looked over the room. "I think all the birds are here. Time to be the centre of attention."

Buffy stood up. "Once again we have gathered here for the Defeat Voldemort Challenge. This time in addition to Hermione Granger, we also have Severus Snape. As this is the first part of the challenge, you are welcome to pick their brains. Tomorrow your final plans are due, and Hermione and Severus will judge them. And, although I'm sure none of you have forgotten, the winner will get the use of one of the cars, the day off, and two hundred dollars. Okay girls, have fun."

The first girl, a pretty Goth, began "Oh, Hi, I'm Abby. This is for Severus. Did you know where Voldemort was? And if you did, could you tell anyone."

"I did know where he was, and yes I could and did tell."

"The whole time?" Abby followed up.

"We knew he was in Quirrell that whole year, and I knew where he was located from the day he got his body back until the day he died."

Hermione looked at him, shocked. "You knew?"

"Yes, you can't apparate to someone's side if you don't know where they are."

Hermione still looked shocked. "Dumbledore knew where Voldemort was the whole time and just left him there? Just let him torture and kill people?"

"It would have blown my cover. At least that was the reason he gave me." Snape shrugged. "I didn't know about the Horcruxes until later, so that probably had something to do with not moving against him, as well."

The two of them were quiet. Another girl stood, this one a very tall black girl. "How many Death Eaters were there?"

Snape answered her question as well, "Thirty or so in the core group, one hundred additional supporters."

"And they took over the Ministry of Magic?"

"They were the right 130. All of them were handy with an Imperius Curse. You have to remember, there was only something like five thousand of us in the UK at any time."

A sweet faced girl with long brown hair stood up. "I'm Beth. Could you have done some sort of Marauder's map for the Horcruxes?"

Hermione answered, "I don't know. I probably could do one now. The idea never occurred to me then."

"Could Dumbledore have done one?"

Severus answered, "He probably could have. Or, since Lupin and Black were still alive, they could have. But I bet the idea never occurred to them, either."

A bookish looking girl stood up. "I'm Judy. Was Dumbledore actually trying to stop Voldemort, or was he attempting to use the chaos to institute a more just wizarding society by making your world see the dangers of Pure-Blood superiority?"

For a long time neither Snape nor Hermione spoke. They sat quietly thinking, and then after a moment, looked at each other, and thought a bit more.

Finally Snape spoke, "You might just be onto something. I didn't much like Lupin, but he could have been used much more effectively. Sending him to the werewolves as an emissary was worse that useless. Likewise there was no reason to send Hagrid to be beaten to a pulp by the Giants."

Hermione added, "That would also explain him letting the Ministry do such an abysmal job for so long."

"I don't think there was much he could have done with Fudge," Severus said, more speaking to Hermione than the crowd.

"No, but he knew Voldemort would be back, and he turned down the position as Minister of Magic. He could have been in charge when Voldemort returned."

"I hadn't thought of that…" They both continued to look thoughtful.

After a minute, a girl with short blue and black hair stood up. "I'm Cindy. This question is for Severus: did anyone in the Order know your loyalties after Dumbledore was killed?"

"No. Well, Dumbledore's portrait, but he wasn't exactly an Order member. No one useful."

"So what did you actually do during that last year? I mean, how did you being cut off from the Order benefit anyone?"

"I made sure that Hogwarts wasn't as bad as it could have been. I kept a lot of the DA alive, and set it up so they got out before things got too bad. I also made sure Harry got the tools he needed to destroy the Horcruxes and face Voldemort. I don't think my being cut off from the Order benefited anyone, with the possible exception of me. If anyone who knew my true alliance was captured, that would have been the end of me.

"In retrospect the whole last year was a debacle. Most of what I did in regards to Harry and the Horcrux hunt could have been done by any other member of the Order and more easily. But figuring a better way to have done it is your job."

Beth stood up again. "Was the Prophecy true? Could only Harry have killed Voldemort?"

Hermione took that one. "No. Anyone who could have landed a killing curse would have killed Voldemort, but as long as that bit of his soul was in Harry, then he'd just keep coming back. As I understand it, the whole point of the Prophecy was to draw Voldemort out into the open where he could be fought."

Cindy asked another question, "How many Order members were there?"

Hermione cast a questioning glance at Severus, and then said, "I knew of about twenty-five."

"Sixty-three at the beginning of the war, eighteen by the end," Severus added.

Judy stood. "Can Dementors be killed?"

Once more Snape and Hermione looked at each other, he spoke first, "Probably, anything that breeds dies, but I don't know how you'd go about doing it."

"Did they have actual bodies?" Hermione asked Severus.

"Yes. Maybe if you got close enough to one you could stab it or something. I've never heard of anyone who could stay sane long enough to do anything if one got close enough to stab."

Abbey rose again. "Why didn't you guys just kill Quirrell?"

Snape answered, "Dumbledore did."

Hermione looked at him in shock. "Dumbledore killed Quirrell?"

"We had been hoping to get Voldemort out of Quirrell. We had hoped to save him. However, he had been fatally wounded fighting Harry, and Dumbledore saw it as his chance to take out Voldemort. It didn't work. That's why Voldemort tried possessing Harry at the Ministry; he was hoping that Dumbledore would try the same trick twice. Obviously Dumbledore was better at learning from his mistakes than Voldemort gave him credit for."

"Why didn't it work?" Abby asked.

"This was Dumbledore's conjecture: Voldemort was not attached to Quirrell's body in any meaningful way. He was like a tick, if you kill the person the tick is on, it just hops back off and finds a new person. It doesn't die. But because Quirrell had been drinking the Unicorn blood to help keep Voldemort alive, Dumbledore had hoped he was more attached to the physical body of Quirrell than he actually was."

No one stood. "Is that everything?" Buffy asked. A murmur of assent came from the girls. "So, this time tomorrow, get your ideas to Hermione." The gathering broke up as the girls moved onto their regularly scheduled activities.

Spike joined Snape and Hermione. "Buffy and I were planning on going out tonight. Would you like to join us?"

"When and where?" Hermione answered.

"After sunset, and how about the Warehouse district? There's good food and a club we like. Do you eat Brazillian food?"

"Not yet, but I like pretty much everything," Hermione replied.

"See you then. I've got a poetry class that's starting without me. Oh, no jeans or trainers." Spike turned to leave, his coat flaring behind him.

Severus was standing behind her, smiling. As Spike walked away Severus bent to whisper in her ear, "Should I be jealous?"

Hermione blushed slightly. "Well, he is rather pretty." She grinned at him. "Or were you talking about his coat?"

"The coat. Definitely the coat."

"It is a good coat. Do I see a potential Christmas present?"

"You just might."

"You and leather, who'd have thought?"

"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms Granger. You obviously weren't paying enough attention when we went dancing."

She raised an eyebrow at him, "And I thought it was what was under those leather trousers that had you so entranced…"

"There was that." They walked out of the gym snarking gently at each other.


	46. In Which We Contemplate Potions & Psycho

Chapter 49: In Which We Contemplate Potions and Psychopaths

The sun crept slowly across the deeply blue sky of Cleveland summer. While waiting for it to go down, Severus rummaged around the kitchen for the necessary ingredients to make an anti-nausea potion. Sugar, ginger, and peppermint were all easy to locate, now he needed chalk. Fortunately Hermione would be back with some soon.

"Why chalk?" Hermione asked him, leaning against the counter when she returned.

"Because of the magical properties of the grounding forces of earth taking into effect the spicy fieryness of the peppermint and ginger, while balancing the water that all the ingredients will swim in." Severus looked somewhat pleased with himself.

"You have no idea." She smirked at him.

"I have no idea. The potion works. It's always worked, and it's so basic I've had no desire to test it to see why it works."

"It bet it's because chalk is basic and stomach acid can make you feel sick." She handed Snape a roll of Rolaids and a few sticks of chalk she had found in one of the classrooms.

He snagged the chalk, and began working with the mortar and pestle he had found. Hermione watched him and then grabbed a food processor, measuring out the ingredients, using the Rolaids instead of the chalk.

In a matter of seconds, she had a smooth minty paste. In a matter of minutes, Severus had one as well.

He very carefully scraped his into a pot of boiling water, and she dumped hers into a similar pot.

"Are you trying to drive me insane this sloppy job you're doing." He wasn't truly angry, but she could see he didn't enjoy watching her work in such a slipshod manner.

"I'm trying to see if the ingredients really matter, or if it is all about the application of will."

He went back to timing his potion. At precisely two minutes and thirty-six seconds, Snape took his potion off the heat, stirred it three times clockwise, and four times anti-clockwise.

Hermione took hers off at about two and a half minutes and gave it half a dozen stirs. Both carefully poured the very hot liquid through a strainer into a jar. Hermione lidded the jars, gave each one a number, and put hers in the fridge to cool. Severus cast a cooling charm upon his.

"Giles will grab one of the two of them tomorrow, and we'll hear back how it worked," Hermione said. As they were walking out of the kitchen, Hermione looked thoughtful. "You know, if it really is all about will, that might explain why Neville was so awful at potions. Between his fear and trying so hard to focus on the ingredients, he probably never spared a moment to concentrate on what the potion was supposed to do."

"Did you ever find out why he was so afraid of me? I know I wasn't kind to him, but I was worse to you and Potter, and neither of you developed Snapephobia."

"We had bigger things to be afraid of, impending return of Lord Voldemort and all that. Maybe Neville didn't?"

As they left the kitchen to get ready for dinner, Hermione thought of something. "Why did you leave the castle during the final battle?"

Snape looked a little startled by the question. "I suppose that's not totally out of the blue given this afternoon's conversation. I left because I could see in Minerva's eyes that Potter was standing right next to her, and she was going to kill me if I stayed a second longer. There was no way he would trust my information if I killed Dumbledore in front of him, and then stunned Minerva in what looked like an unprovoked attack. I would have had to stun him, get him to trust me, give him the information, and then hope he'd go do what he needed to do. That would have been a rather large mess. I was hoping to get back into the castle, find him without him seeing me, and let my Patronus tell him what he needed to know.

"It really was an abysmal plan. Had Potter been any smarter or told you, I'm sure one of you would have noticed that a suicide mission against Voldemort was also a great way for Voldemort to win the battle."

"He didn't tell me because he was sure I'd stop him, and I would have. I suppose we might have had a chat with Dumbledore's portrait just to make sure, or the hour would have elapsed and the fight would have started again. Who knows? I wasn't with him when he saw your memories. I was with the Weasleys. Fred had just died…" Hermione visibly wrenched herself away from that line of thought. "Okay. That's enough grim for one day."

They continued walking towards their room. "So, tell me about the girl who won last year," Snape said.

"She had a very simple plan. Capture Voldemort; put him into a magical stasis. Have an all out, pull no punches, hunt for the Horcruxes. Destroy them. Kill Voldemort the day after Harry died for the slow version. Kill Harry and Voldemort in the quick one."

"There is a certain ruthless efficiency to that."

"Talk about ruthless, each year I get at least one girl who either kidnaps the children of the Death Eaters to ensure their good behaviour or has them all killed in Azkaban as soon as Voldemort rises again. In 2002 I had one girl come up with homicide bomber Harry. He enters the clearing under his invisibility cloak with enough explosives strapped to him to destroy everything within a city block. Obviously that one didn't win."

"You thought it might be a bit difficult to get those kinds of explosives at Hogwarts? Let alone make a bomb work with all that magic making Muggle electronics shaky at best"

"That and there was a better plan that year."

"Really?"

"Take a time turner. Go back to the graveyard where Voldemort returned. Make sure every Auror and Order Member was there and in hiding, and blast the hell out of him and Pettigrew. Hunt down the rest of the Horcruxes while he's floating about. Cast a locator spell, find his soul, capture it, and wait for Harry to die of natural causes. They get extra points if they find a way to keep Harry alive."

"Can a soul be captured?"

"Her thought process was: if all the other bits of his soul could be stuck in objects, why not this last one?"

Snape sighed and shook his head.

Hermione shrugged. "Yeah, I didn't have a good answer for that either. It seems plausible, and I've heard of soul gems, so maybe one could be made with what was left of Voldemort. Mostly I was impressed by the use of a time turner."

"Kidnap Merope Gaunt and have her raised somewhere far away from Tom Riddle," Snape said. "When you factor in time turners the possibilities are limitless."

"Yes, after that year, I told them I wanted them to use magic/weapons and tactics available to them. So they better have a fantastic story for how one of them gets her hands on a time turner."

They had reached the door to their room. Hermione opened it and continued speaking, "I'll admit that I was shocked that no one on our side realized that there were time turners sitting in the Ministry, waiting to be used. I had one all of my third year and to use it for anything but classes never occurred to me. Dumbledore, a time turner, five minutes in spent in an orphanage in 1933, and all of our lives could have been much simpler."

"More fodder for the idea that Dumbledore wasn't actually trying to get rid of Voldemort." Hermione really didn't like that idea, but she couldn't argue against it. Severus continued, "Anyway, who knows what a world without Tom Riddle looks like? It could be awful. It could be lovely. It probably doesn't involve the two of us sitting in a room in America."

"It probably doesn't. Plus, I'm not convinced that killing kids is the best way to go about dispensing justice. Harry tells me that by the time he was ten Riddle was already tormenting the children around him and their pets. Maybe he was born broken? Maybe he was fragile and had he been raised with a loving family who nurtured him, he would have been fine?"

Snape stopped peeling off his clothing and looked at her aghast. "I suppose we could break into the Ministry, steal a time turner, kidnap baby Tom, and give him to a loving, supporting family, and then find out that he killed them shortly after his fifteenth birthday because he was just plain evil. I don't think there was ever anything good or wholesome about that man. He was the rotten fruit of a diseased tree. There used to be whispers about how Merope's father was also her uncle, her mother also her grandmother. Or so the rumours went among the old families."

"And you would know…?"

"Because my Grandmother Prince was older than dirt, pure blood, and a nasty gossip. Slytherins love it when one of us does well, but it's even better when one does fantastically awful. And the Gaunts were almost a cautionary tale, why the occasional, very occasional, half-blood was allowable. I suppose it was her way of saying that even though I wasn't a pure blood, I wasn't useless." He was buttoning a dark green shirt. Hermione continued to toss bits of clothing out of her bag.

He saw her grab a bundle of lime green fabric. "Finally, I was beginning to think I had forgotten this." When she shook it out he saw a small summery dress. "So, with Voldemort gaining support and raising strength for the first war, your grandmother would spread rumours about his mother?"

"No! No one knew he was related to the Gaunts. I didn't know until Dumbledore was looking into his background to learn more about him. One day I found out Dumbledore had been pressing Augusta Longbottom for any memories about the Gaunts, so I told him what I had heard. I doubt Voldemort could have risen as far as he did if he had gone by the name Gaunt. I can guarantee you that the Malfoys and the Blacks, and the rest of high Slytherin society would have had nothing to do with him. His blood would have been considered a bit too pure." Severus flicked his wand and his socks zoomed to him. "Do you know where my shoes are?"

"I think they're under the bed." Snape bent down to look, while Hermione pulled her hair into a loose pony tail.

"You wouldn't give him the benefit of the doubt?"

Snape lifted his head. "Huh?"

"Baby Tom, no benefit of the doubt?"

"No." He straightened and looked at her seriously. "I'm not saying that it's a good plan to execute psychotic ten year olds, some probably will get better. But in this particular case I'm perfectly comfortable with the idea. If it wasn't for the fear of the unseen and unforeseeable consequences, stealing a time turner and taking out Baby Tom would be immensely tempting." Hermione looked disquieted. He sat next to her and took her hand. "I spent more time, more closely with him than anyone else currently alive. Unlike all his other pets, I never disappointed him. He came closer to trusting me than he did with anyone, and he still almost killed me over a stupid, bloody wand. When I say he was evil, it's not an opinion. That he had no redeeming qualities is not conjecture. I'm not rushing to judge here either, I had four years with him the first time and four years the second, and any method that could have removed him would have been a blessing for us."

"A baby?" She still looked disturbed.

"Not _a_ baby, _that_ baby, and only that baby."

"Don't you believe in the possibility of redemption?"

"For almost everyone. Hell, we're getting ready to go out to dinner with an ensouled Vampire and his Slayer lover, if there was ever a case of redemption, I'd say that counts. But Voldemort wasn't almost everyone. He's a very specific case of someone who… what did you say about elemental evil? You didn't like the idea, but had no reason to doubt it. If humans can be pure evil, he was. Think about it: we could say: let's go get the time turner and give him to a loving family, and he still comes out evil. Well, obviously it wasn't the right loving family, so we'll try another loving family. Gosh, he's still evil. Well how about another family? When does it stop? When can you say we tried enough, he's really bad to the bone, let's take him out?" Hermione looked thoughtful and started to apply eyeliner.

"Of course, that begs the question: would he turn out evil if given to that first hypothetical loving family?"

"Do you honestly believe he would have been all sunshine and roses?"

"No. I do think he was actually sick. But I like to think that he could have channeled all that awfulness into something more constructive, or less destructive." She looked at him in the mirror while finishing her lipstick. She wasn't sure what Severus' expression meant, but she guessed he was thinking she was being unbelievably naive and didn't want to say anything about it. _Well, what he doesn't say can't hurt me. _She kissed her lips together to make sure the lipstick was on right, and then said, "Ready to go?"

He smiled at her. "Yes, let's go."


	47. In Which We Enjoy The Native

Chapter 50: In Which We Enjoy the Native Entertainments

They met Buffy at the front doors to the school. She smiled as they drew near, and said, "He's getting a car. No matter where we go, he has to drive. Almost kill a guy once or twice in a totally-not-your-fault accident, and he'll just never let you drive again." When she finished speaking a remarkably non-descript Toyota pulled up.

As they shuffled into the car, Severus said to Spike, "Somehow I pictured you in something a little… edgier."

There was a look of resigned longing on Spike's face when he began to explain, "Around here the watchword for cars is cheap. The more motors for the dollar, the more Giles likes them. So we have old, boring cars. That way no one minds too much if a demon sets it on fire or crushes it or one of the Slayerettes destroys it while learning to drive. We've got eight of these boring cars for about what one really excellent car would cost. Probably a good thing we don't have something shiny and new, we'd never get the girls to stop fighting over it." Spike pulled away from the curb and began to head down the road at what Severus considered a ridiculously high speed.

"We're going to a place called the Brasa Grill Steakhouse. It's a Churrascaria, which means it's a lovely place where they bring you all the grilled critter bits you can eat, and if you still want more they have a salad bar that may make you want to weep with joy," Buffy told them while Spike piloted the car.

"Every kind of meat you can think of, perfectly cooked, brought to your table in rounds. It's bloody brilliant. They give you this coaster like thing, green side up, meat keeps coming your way. Want to chew and think a bit? Put the red side up, and they hold off. Next time I'm in Brazil, I have to find one of these to see what the real version is like."

"You've been to Brazil?" Severus asked.

"I've been to just about anywhere you can get to by boat. Hop on a cargo ship, get off when it lands, and see what's what."

"Where do you like best?" Hermione asked.

"Most of the places I like best don't exist anymore. Colonial Hong Kong. St. Petersburg under the Czar. Munich and Paris in the 1920's… New York in the 1920's. That was a great ten years to be a vampire. The whole world had a party, and I got to see a lot of it. Tanganyika, back in the day that was a beautiful place. Ceylon. God, I'm a bleeding history book.

"As for now: Prague, Rome, Istanbul, Tokyo. Tokyo is fantastic if you've got time and money to burn. Rio is lovely. Sydney, I've had some great times down there."

"How about here in the States? We were planning on having a bit of holiday when we got done here," Severus said.

"Charleston," Buffy answered. "That's where we're going next. It would be horrible this time of year, hot and sticky, but in the fall… In the fall it's a place of cool breezes, wrought iron architecture, butterflies, hidden gardens, and the occasional hurricane. Some of the girls have been studying colonial history and Charleston is a big part of it. I've been auditing their class and decided we need to go there."

"For a city: New York. For outdoorsy stuff: Glacier National Park. For a party: Burning Man or Mardi Gras depending on your sun tolerance and whether your prefer X or alcohol. For driving: The northern half of California's Route 1. For just general Americaness: Las Vegas," Spike answered.

"General Americaness?" Hermione asked.

"They built a multi-billion dollar, sin drenched playground in the middle of a desert. Then when they decided to tony it up a bit, they moved pieces of Europe there. Why fly all the way to Italy to see Venice when the Venetian is closer and you can gamble there? It's Disneyland for adults, and it's just really, really American."

"I wouldn't have pegged you for an outdoors lover, what with the bursting into flame upon contact with direct sunlight," Snape said.

"I'm not an outdoors kind of guy, which is why I was in the Glacier National Park. No one looks for vampires in the mountains. Nice views by the moonlight."

"Oh."

"Here we are," Buffy said as they pulled up to a valet. He took the key to the car with a look best described as disdain kept in check by his desire for a good tip.

As they got out of the car and Spike went to see if their table was ready, Buffy said, "The Florida Keys are gorgeous and should be pretty nice this time of year. Warm by your standards, but if you are going to spend all your time on the beach, warm is a good thing. But really most of this country's got something interesting in it. Here we are in Cleveland, capital of boring middle America, and they've still got a few hot clubs, some good restaurants, the Rock and Roll Hall of fame, and a ball team that's better than it used to be."

Spike returned holding four drinks. "The table should be ready in a bit. I thought we'd start off with mojitos." He passed each of them a glass of rum, mint, sugar, and lime.

After a few minutes, during which they sipped their drinks and continued to talk about places to visit in the US, the hostess came and led them to a table.

The first half hour or so of dinner was spent mostly chewing. New and exciting bits of meat kept coming their way. Parmesan crusted fillet mignon, lamb chops, chicken drumsticks, pork tenderloin, turkey wrapped in bacon: bites of each were tasted and praised. But as each passing meat came their way, they began to become more discerning. The little green and red disk began to spend more and more time on red as favourites were selected and other, less favoured meats were passed up.

As they continued to munch Severus asked a question that had been gnawing at him since he learned Spike was a vampire, "How did you end up with her?"

"She can't resist my pretty blue eyes." Spike threw his arm around Buffy while she rolled her eyes and continued chewing.

Snape rolled his as well. "Yes, you're bleeding lovely. How did one of your kind end up with one of her kind?"

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, at least for the ten minutes we're both fighting the enemy," Buffy said after she swallowed.

"Her ex and my ex teamed up to end the world, and we stopped them."

Snape's eyebrow rose. "How often to do people try to end the world around you?"

Buffy thought about it. "At least once a year, usually toward the end of May. Something about springtime gets the nuts out."

"We always had that problem as well; you could just about set a clock by the end of school year disaster. Maybe it's the weather; late June in Scotland is probably about the same as May over here," Hermione answered.

Snape spoke again, "What I meant is, how does having him," Snape picked his words carefully, even with the red side up, waiters with food came wandering by their table every few minutes, "effect your mission? Doesn't it make it harder to see all the others as… targets?"

"You mean how can I stake all the others knowing that two of them could join the good fight?" Buffy asked.

"Two?" Severus asked back.

"Oh God, no one told you about Angel either?" Spike was looking very hard at Hermione.

She could almost hear him thinking, 'Did you tell him anything about us?'

"Who's Angel?" Severus was also looking at Hermione, with an expression very similar to Spike's.

"An immensely long story that really doesn't bear telling. Let's just put it this way: once upon a time I wasn't the only vampire with a soul. Now I am because the other one gave into his death wish. As a side note, when you are as flammable as one of us, fighting a dragon is a bloody stupid idea," Spike answered.

"To get back to your point: how much leverage to give the bad guys. We have a sort of 'Don't mess with us, we don't mess with you,' plan in action. We make sure that everyone in an area knows we're there, and we give them a few days to move on. If you're still there by week's end, you count as fair game. At last count, about three out of ten move on to avoid us. The rest stay put, and we kill them. Then there are the ones that hear we've moved in, and come to us, about two or three new ones a week. A dead Slayer is still the trophy of choice among demons. We work very hard to not oblige them. Every town usually has a few who are willing to work with us, as well, and we make sure they're protected. Having a Slayer watch your back can be a very good thing if you aren't the strongest or the meanest."

"You just let them leave?" Hermione looked scandalized by Buffy's answer.

"It's not morally pure, but we've still got to pick our battles carefully. We're outnumbered about three hundred to one, so anyone who doesn't want to fight us is more that welcome to scoot. Plus, if they get out of town, there's no chance of us killing something, someone that might be thinking about joining the White Hats," Buffy replied. It was while she said that that Severus began to see the warrior underneath the fashionable girl sitting across from him. This was someone who had done the math and decided that they couldn't win if they went after everyone. A practical General.

"What would you have done about Voldemort?" Severus asked Buffy.

"Given it to Willow and Giles. Willow would have had his soul located and entrapped in a matter of days. Giles would have hit the books and found if there was a way to de-Horcrux Harry. If there was, they'd do it. If not, they'd weigh the value of alive Harry versus free bit of Voldemort, come up with which was the better option, and execute the plan. Meanwhile Spike and I would have led a force of girls to take out the more devoted members of the Death Eaters. From what I've seen of wanded magic, you have to aim at your targets. If you rush a wWizard with ten or fifteen people, you'll take him down long before he can get off more than three or four spells. Kill those who won't surrender. Obliviate those who want their lives and resettle them elsewhere with no wands and no memory that magic ever existed. All said and done, we'd be finished in a week, two tops."

"If it's that easy, why do the Defeat Lord Voldemort Challenge?"

"The reason for the Defeat Lord Voldemort Challenge is to get the girls to think about the idea that we've got to kill people as well as demons. A big part of tactical thinking is accepting that killing can be the right thing and then doing it. If you want my opinion, that was Dumbledore's biggest problem. He never got past 'Do Not Kill.' Since he couldn't get past it, a whole lot of you ended up dead. I'm sure if he had been a school teacher and nothing else, he would have been great, but he wasn't hard enough to do the job he ended up with. The real crying shame of what you've told me about this is that he ended up with the job in the first place. You've got Aurors for a reason. Someone should have known how best to use them."

"You have to use them to know how to use them. We've got, on average, two 'black hats' to use your term, a century. That's not much practice for anyone to develop tactical thinking with," Hermione replied.

"Your Ministry has some tricks. There's a reason almost all your trouble comes from maniac wizards. The same reason I'm not in England. Beyond you, Luv." He stroked Buffy's hair. "I was back shortly after the Great War, when your Ministry developed the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures. One day after the Great War, I woke up unable to move. There's three blokes in billowy robes, two are holding stakes, and the other one's got some sort of ball of sunshine, and they're all smiling at me. They start explain how..." Spike's accent went Oxfordian suddenly. 'Due to the passage of the Control of Violent Magical Beings Act of 1919, you are given the option of relocation or death. If you'd like us to relocate you, you can blink or we can stake you now.'" His accent went back to its usual rhythms. "I tried to fight for just long enough to realize the only muscles I could move were my eyelids, and then I blinked.

"I've been back a few times, and usually within two hours one of those sodding wizards is sitting next to me offering me a one way trip to somewhere else. I haven't had a real fry up in decades. Fish and chips, they try here, but it just isn't the same. Thank God for satellite telly or I'd have to say goodbye to West Ham United." Spike took a drink.

"How do you think Sanguini got to stay?" Hermione asked Snape.

"Sanguini? Tall bloke, pale, spends way too much time watching the young ladies?" Spike asked.

"You know him?" Hermione answered.

"Bleeding prat. He's not actually a vampire. I'm not sure what exactly he is, but he's not one of us. Probably one of you with a glamour, some pointy teeth, and a really slow pulse. He's in it for the seduction value. Dracula did it first and better, but Drac's dead, so why not try to fill his niche?"

"So, how do you know him?" Severus asked him.

"He was working his way through the pretty girls in Prague the last time I was there. Bloody git had the nerve to brag to me about how many of them he had gotten over the last three weeks." Spike shook his head.

"Last time I saw him, he was at Hogwarts for a Christmas party, had just had a book written about him, and yes, he was eyeballing the older girls," said Hermione.

"He was at that party wasn't he? Slughorn was bragging about getting a real vampire to come to his party like it was some sort of social trump card. I can't wait to tell him." The smile Severus was wearing had an evil tinge.

Their conversation continued to bounce about. Snape and Hermione learned a bit about England before the Ministry consolidated its control of all magic within Britain's borders. Severus and Spike decided to limit their conversation about the merits of the Blue Öyster Cult versus The Sex Pistols when they noticed that both Hermione and Buffy looked ready to fall into a coma from boredom. Buffy was more than happy to tell them about the West Coast, especially California, but the Pacific Northwest as well. As they were eating dessert, a light smattering of wedding conversation filled out the evening. Finally, filled to the brim with good food and good feelings, they began the second part of the evening.

As the meal came to a close something interesting happened. Something Hermione had never expected to see. An immensely polite but intense fight over who would get the check began. By the end of the first five minutes of Severus and Spike deferring to each other, both telling the other how it would be his pleasure to pay the tab, Buffy signalled to Hermione that they should go to the bathroom. Neither of the men noticed.

As they walked from the table, Buffy said, "Do you want to get out of here anytime in the near future?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I've got a credit card. You've got a credit card. How about we split the check?"

"Sounds good."

They grabbed their waiter, settled up, and walked back to the men, who were still being very polite about the bill, but it looked like an arm wrestling match would break out any second.

"Let's go," Buffy said.

Spike and Severus looked up at her. "Go?"

"Yep, we're all paid." Hermione found herself wishing for a camera. The dumbfounded look on the faces of both men was one she hoped would stay with her for a long time to come.

They walked down the street and came to a building with music echoing out of it. A sign saying Funky Buddha lit the street, and people were standing in line in front of it.

Buffy led them to the door, while saying quietly, almost inaudibly because of the music, "Two years ago they had a problem with several nasty demons. We took care of that problem. Now Slayers are always welcome, no waiting. There are some perks to this job."

They entered a club decorated in red velvet and what Snape considered a somewhat Indian theme. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed rather naughty pictures on the walls, two bars, and one main dance floor, as well as people grooving about on the catwalk linking one side of the second story to the other.

The crowd looked to be in their thirties, a bit young for him, a bit old for Hermione, but all in all, it felt right enough. The music wasn't anything he had been listening to of late, but it was loud and had a beat that anyone with a pulse could dance to. It would do.

"After seven years with Slayers, I've learned one thing, well, lots of things really, but one thing about Slayers, they're favourite way of not getting enough sleep is dancing," said Spike.

"Which is why we found this club about two days after it opened," Buffy answered.

Once they entered the plan was easy enough. Talk some, dance some, and drink some. Spike spotted a table, and had several drinks waiting for them with an almost uncanny speed. Then, their table marked, they went off to dance.

It was maybe an hour into the evening. Severus hadn't seen Buffy and Spike for a bit, but that didn't bother Snape. He was dancing with Hermione, moving quickly, just his fingertips resting on her shoulders, when he saw Spike and Buffy above them on the catwalk. Spike was standing behind her, speaking softly in her ear, moving against her back… _Oh. In public?_ Severus found it hard to look away from them. Buffy's face was soft, her lips parted, their bodies rocking in a rhythm unrelated to the music. It was deeply arousing and confusing. There was a perfectly lovely woman dancing in front of him, and yet he was staring at the two blonds shagging above him. Spike saw him watching and winked at him. Severus looked away feeling a bit embarrassed and a bit angry. He focused back on dancing with Hermione, who leaned toward him, and asked. "What was so fascinating up there?"

Snape felt a blush crawl up his cheeks. Hermione looked puzzled. _Severus can blush? What is going on?_ She looked up at the catwalk. Buffy gave her a lazy wave. Spike was nibbling her ear. _Well, they aren't very discrete are they? You need to say something to Severus, he's looking like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar._

"Want to try that yourself someday?"

"Argh…" She was sure Snape had wanted to produce something more eloquent than that sound, but her question had taken him by surprise.

"Sex in public?" she asked again, pretending the sound he made had been one of confusion rather than shock.

"I can't say I'd given it much thought." He was back to his usual self. He was also focused solely on her now. His hands spanned the small of her back, and he pulled her close to him as the both gyrated to the music. "You?"

She gave him a smile that he felt all the way to his toes. "Maybe one day, probably not tonight. Don't want to look like we're in a competition."

"Heavens, no!"

Later that night, with several more of those mint-lime-rum concoctions Spike called Mojitos inside him, Severus found himself sitting at their table with Spike, watching the girls dance with each other. The alcohol left him feeling more open than usual, and more curious about the man sitting next to him.

"Are you and Buffy going to marry?"

"Not anytime soon."

"Oh…"

"No, it's not like that. I don't exist legally. William Grimes died in 1880, and I haven't bothered with building a legal person since then. But I'll be with her until the end. And if I ever get the hint she wants matching rings, I'll do the right thing.

"Don't you worry about getting bored with her?"

"No. If you're right with yourself, and she's right with herself, you're golden. From what I can see, the problem with most relationships is people try to fix themselves through them. It doesn't work. Buffy and I did two years of that, and it was a disaster. I had to leave for three years and get myself together, get used to being a man, and she had to take that time to heal up as well. Four years ago we were no longer the walking wounded, and then we were able to make it work."

"But how do you know?"

"I was with my ex over one hundred and ten years. I know a little something about being happy with the one you've got. But the Spike that loved Dru is not the same person I am today. That's a big part of what I did during my away time, I went from being Dru's monster, to my own man. Look, I don't know you all that well, but you look comfortable in your skin. I do know Hermione pretty well, and this is the happiest I've ever seen her. If you don't have it all worked out, you're close, and that gives you a good chance. That's all any of us really have anyway." His eyes focused on Buffy who was shimmying next to Hermione. Severus followed his gaze.

"We're lucky men."

"Yes we are. One of us got luckier than the other though…" Spike smirked.

"Yes, we saw. So did half the club."

"Nah… only a third at most. Nothing like watching her move, smelling myself on her, knowing she's mine. In that way, we're more than married. We're two of a kind now. Warriors, veterans, survivors, lovers, mates, been to hell and back, together and apart, and still came back to each other. Better, worse, been there done that, and still together. No ring or words can do that, only time and life can. It's been ten years since I saw her the first time. It was a in a club like this one, and she was dancing, just like she is now. She was mine then, my target, my enemy, my next trophy. Mine."

"No love at first sight?"

"Hate, lust, not love. Not love until a long time later. You and Hermione?"

"This little eleven-year-old-know-it-all, all hair and teeth, her hand in the air, bouncing up and down to answer my questions and show off how much she knew, was sitting in my class. Annoyance was my first reaction to her. Eventually a very grudging respect, one I couldn't let her see. I didn't really see her as anything other than Potter's brains until a few months ago."

"And now?"

Severus didn't answer for a long time. He watched Hermione move. Watched her watch him. His lips slid into a smile. "Now, she is definitely more than Potter's brain."

A/N: Chapter 51: In Which Snape Dreams, is over in A Proper Romance the M Chapters. Head over there if you like your fic M rated. Go right to the next chapter if you prefer T.


	48. In Which Snape Awakes

Chapter 52: In Which Snape Awakes

Severus woke with his heart pounding, covered in sweat, and sticky with semen, as well. For a moment he was extremely glad that Hermione preferred to sleep curled against his back. Then more memories of the dream came to him, and feelings of anger, guilt, shame, and lust all hit him at once.

_Goddamn, bloody, fucking dream! 'It'll tell you about your personality element. What the hell kind of element involves… that! Fuck! _Severus got up gently so as not to wake Hermione. He most certainly did not want to explain his current state of sticky disarray. The clock read 5:05. _Must get a shower and see if I can find Willow._

His bad mood worsened as he got into the shower. The water on his body just brought back more images from his dream. He stayed under the spray just long enough to wash off and then was out.

He was stalking down the hall toward Willow's office when it occurred to him that she didn't live in her office. In fact, he didn't know where any of the older members of the group, besides Xander, lived. His level of frustration and anger began to coalesce around him, forming an almost visible blackness. A barely audible litany of angry and embarrassed curse words followed him as he changed directions and headed toward the kitchens. If he couldn't find Willow, at least he could find a cuppa.

He didn't find his cuppa. He did find Willow. Or rather, she found him. She appeared in the hallway in front of him less than a minute after he left her office.

"I could feel you from home." She took one look at him and said, "I see your dream wasn't what you were expecting."

"Bloody right it wasn't what I was expecting! I was expecting air. I was expecting flying."

"And you got?"

His scowl deepened. "Not air."

"Let's go into my office and talk."

He followed her, and she silently wondered what on earth could have him in such a bad mood. She opened her door and settled on one of the pillows her students used. She offered him a seat, but he paced around her office.

"So, tell me about the dream."

"I don't want to."

"Of course you do, you came looking for me at five in the morning."

"I want to yell at you for opening me to such a thing!" He snarled at her, forcing his anger towards her in an almost physical burst of magic.

She sat calmly on the floor as he towered over her. Willow let herself try to feel what was bothering him so much. As she relaxed, she noticed that the main cause of his disquiet was embarrassment. _So what would cause Severus to be so embarrassed?_

"You don't have to tell me, but it'll be hard to move on in your training if I don't know."

He turned quickly from his pacing, glared at her, and continued walking. She continued trying to get a feel for what he had been dreaming about. Fortunately for her he wasn't even trying to block his emotions. Finally she got a momentary glimpse of the dream. _Oh, Snape, Spike, Buffy and Hermione_. _No wonder he's upset._

"You think you're the first wizard to have sex dream that bothered you?"

Snape stopped dead in his tracks, glaring at her, while she continued speaking blithely, "Look, sex is usually an indicator of fire energies. It's just the way your brain chose to get the point across."

"We were in the pool."

"You were in the pool?"

"Yes woman! Are you deaf? The pool. Water all over the place, no fire to be seen!"

"Huh? Interesting. Any other fluids?"

"Sex in a pool: what other kinds of fluids do you think there would have been?"

"Okay. We've got sex, water, and semen. Was there a death symbol?"

Snape's eyelids lowered. For a second he was about to say something blisteringly sarcastic, and then it hit him. Spike was a death symbol. Spike was a huge fucking death symbol with a deliberately rough accent and bleach blonde hair.

"Yes."

Willow was starting to see some relief coming over Severus's features. "How about blood?" she asked.

Even if there hadn't been literal blood, the fact that a vampire had been in the dream would have filled the bill. "Yes, there was blood in the dream."

"Both sexes present?"

"Yes."

"Did you do something that indicated accepting the death symbol?"

"Yes." _Bloody dream! How on earth am I going to look at either of them again?_ He still felt mortified, but much of the anger was starting to fade away.

"Sounds like you hit gold. Remember I said that magic fits roughly into one of four categories. Well, here's where roughly comes in. Above and beyond elemental magic is life and death magic. Some people use the term necromancy, which covers healing to killing to the undead, but most people forget about its context as life magic as well as death magic because of the name. If I'm interpreting your pissed off and embarrassed manner as well as the bits you've told me correctly, it sounds like there was something of a live/dead male/female orgy in the pool last night in your dreams."

He nodded stiffly. She made a somewhat complicated gesture and the stone that had so interested him whizzed off its shelf and stopped in front of his hand.

"Go ahead, take it."

He held the stone.

"It's been calling to you since the first time you saw it. This is the stone I used as a focus when I tried to bring Oz back from the dead. It didn't work. But what you felt about it, what you noticed as different, was the life magic. It's beyond the elements. Most of us can feel it, but using it is very tricky. I couldn't really use it when I cast that spell. I can now, but by now I know not to try again.

"All of the elements are required for something to be alive, but all the elements cannot make life." Willow sat and thought. Severus finally stopped pacing and sat next to her, holding the stone, and trying to understand what he felt while it rested in his hand.

"All the potions you make are used to do something with someone. They're all about changing life in some way."

"Yes, but isn't most magic?"

"Not really. Most magic is about changing matter: making things do stuff. Making that rock fly to you. Or making a lock open. Conjuring things. Making things burn or freeze or change. With the exception of Care of Magical Creatures, you probably taught the most life involved course at Hogwarts. I bet water really isn't your element. It's life. You've got potions skills. Can you heal? Are you good with dead things?"

Severus began to warm up to the topic, especially as new ideas began to fade some of the dream images from his mind. "I'm better at potions than anything else. With a potion I can cure almost anything that can be cured. I haven't had too much experience with non-potion healing, but what I have done worked well. Spike is the only 'dead thing' I have any experience with. That's not quite true, but I've never bothered to do anything with the castle ghosts, besides sit History of Magic."

"How about magic designed to hurt someone?"

"I'm good at that, too. I invented a spell that severs flesh. It usually cannot be healed. I can fix the damage that spell creates, but I think I'm the only one."

"And you survived an attack that should have killed you?"

"Yes, but that wasn't my own magic. That was a protection placed upon me long ago." His eyes went unfocused for a moment. His thoughts were a long way off. "That was also life magic, very, very old life magic."

"You have no children?"

"No. Not a lot of opportunity, and I make a very, very good contraceptive potion."

"You would. Anything that heals or kills you'll make well. Have you killed anyone other than Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

"It was easy wasn't it?"

He answered with a tight voice. "I didn't find the spell difficult, if that's what you mean."

"That's what I mean. I don't mean that you enjoy killing, just that you'd have a talent for it if you ever decided to turn your hand to it. There are times where that skill will prove to be a blessing. Life and death is all the same thing, just different stops along the same road. You can't have a talent for the one without skills with the other."

"So, what does this mean for learning wandless magic?"

"It means that you'll find anything involving a person, animal, or plant, easier to do than say light a fire, or levitate, or make the wind obey you. Not to say you won't be able to do that as well, but..." Willow stood, grabbed a knife, and cut her hand. "Pay attention to what I do."

Snape focused on her, and felt her bind the wound, heal the skin, reconnect the blood vessels. She tossed him the knife, which he caught deftly.

"Do you think you can do it after seeing me do it once?"

"I can try, and if I can't, you can fix me up."

He chose his arm as his target, rather than risk damage to his hand. He made the cut shallowly, not wanting to see anything too reminiscent of the blood play in last night's dream. He dropped the knife, and placed his hand over, but not on, the cut. For a moment he focused on the pain, and on the way his body felt, the way the magic of his body felt, and then he began to will the cut to close. And it did. He held up his arm, wiped the blood away, and showed Willow the smooth, unscarred skin.

She smiled brightly at him. "Yes, you have great talent for this. Now, as wonderful as your newfound skill is, it's six in the morning, and I'd like to try to get another hour and a half of sleep before I have to be back at breakfast. You could probably use some sleep as well."

And, just as with his experiments in the pool yesterday, he was once again feeling very tired. "I'll walk you to your room, and then I want you to get at least another three hours of sleep."

When she got to his door, she said in a low voice, "Don't worry about being embarrassed, just about everyone here has had a dream or two about Spike. For all I know, he causes them on purpose. And, if you do spend a few days shying away from him and not looking him in the eye, he'll know what was on your mind last night. Same with Buffy. Xander couldn't look at him for a week, and then Spike spent the next year teasing him about it."

"How did you know?"

"They might as well be a human ankh. You don't get a better life and death symbol than the two of them."


	49. In Which We Read Entries

Chapter 53: In Which We Read Entries

This time Severus woke up pleasantly rested and in a good mood. He was still somewhat discomforted by his earlier dream, but taken in the context of life magic it made sense. At least his rational mind was accepting that fact. _It'll still take every ounce of control I have to look Spike in the eye without blushing._

He stretched out and found Hermione was not in bed with him. He sat up, looked around and saw the note she stuck on the mirror. He grabbed his wand and summoned it to him.

_S_

_I'm teaching wandless magic. I'll be back before lunch. Willow tells me to tell you to lie about and take it easy._

_H_

He looked at the clock and saw that lunch was only a few minutes away. He stood up to get dressed again, and saw a few papers shoved under the door of their room. Severus walked over, picked one up, and looked at it. _Ah, the first of the Defeat The Dark Lord entries._ Part of him wanted to read them right away, but the majority of him decided to wait to read them with Hermione.

_Life magic. Well, that's something different. Unless I want to change my career rather late in life, what good is it? I don't really want to become a healer or assassin anytime soon. Maybe it doesn't need to be 'good for anything.' Maybe it's just good to know. With any luck I'll never be in a situation where I'll really need those skills again. _

_Or… maybe it's time to think about expanding my garden. If I can grow more of my own ingredients… That may be of use._ He continued to ponder the potential for using this newest skill to cut his potion production expenses. He was calculating the cost/return ratio on Bonita's Web Weed if he could grow it himself, while he walked to the kitchen for lunch.

At the door to the kitchen he saw Hermione, sitting with Buffy and Spike, all three of them chatting amiably. Laughing together about something. Willow and Giles joined them. _Two options, put your game face on and have some lunch, or go skulk about in the library pretending you aren't hungry. _He almost turned to go to the library. A lot of him had no desire to face Spike or Buffy, but he was hungry, and Hermione was in there, and so was Willow, who would know what was up if he didn't show for lunch. _Pretend you're a Gryffindor and get in there! Make happy conversation. Look everyone in the eye. And do not blush!_ His shoulders straight, he walked in, grabbed some food, and sat next to the rest of the group. And much to his great joy, he found that mastering his desire to run away was a lot easier than he had thought it might be. Once the conversation got going, it was easier to be in the present than the past.

He spent the afternoon with Willow talking about what Life magic meant and what one could do with it. They then worked a bit on how to focus and how to do this kind of magic without exhausting himself. He rejoined Hermione and the others for dinner, and then they retired to their room, with a pot of coffee, some cookies, and a bowl of popcorn, to go over the entries to the Defeat the Dark Lord Challenge.

As they walked back to their room Snape said, "We're reading papers, right? This isn't a movie or something?"

"I like to have snacks for this. It's a lot more entertaining than grading papers."

On the floor in front of their door lay a pile of papers. Severus picked them up and placed them on the bed.

"Someone." He looked at the top of the first page of an enormous tome of a paper. "Abby, was really thinking. This one's got to be fifty pages."

Hermione shuffled through them. "I've got the short one here, half a page." They settled down to read. Hermione finished her first one very quickly and sat thinking about it while Snape continued with his.

After several moments of thought she said, "I think we've got a winner."

Snape put the one he was reading down. It was very long, extremely complicated, and made him think that Abby needed to start a sideline writing novels. What it wasn't, at least as far as page six, was a good plan for how to get rid of Lord Voldemort.

"The first one you've read is the winner?"

"Maybe, it's pretty short, fairly elegant, and nothing any of us ever thought of. Let me read it to you: 'Snape kills Dumbledore. New leader of the Order knows Snape is still among the good guys. De-horcrux or kill Harry. Keep this very quiet. If Harry is killed, make sure some sort of double is very visible. Start the Horcrux hunt and make sure everyone knows we're looking for them. Voldemort, being paranoid, gathers his Horcruxes to him, keeping them safe near him. Once he's got them all near him, wait for him to call a gathering of the D.E.s. Snape reports gathering. Use the same version of Fiendfyre that levelled Hogsmeade on Malfoy Manor or wherever they all are. Bye-bye, Voldie!'"

Snape blinked and then shook his head.

Hermione watched him and said, "Do you think it would have worked?"

"Malfoy Manor had old protections, but I don't think they had anything that could have withstood the kind of spell that levelled Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade back in Black June. Gringotts and Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes were the only buildings that stood, right?"

"Yes. Fred and George spent two years trying to get the Death Eaters to attack their store. More than anything, the fact they didn't get to show off their best work in a great magical battle in Diagon Alley depressed both of them. When they finally did get to show off how good a job they did, there was no one left to see it. The store was closed for the funerals. So no one was inside when the spell hit, and no one outside survived."

Severus couldn't think of a good response to that, so he asked about the plan. "Who wrote it?"

"This one is Cindy's. What's the plan you're reading?"

"It appears to be a novella. So far all I've gotten is that Shacklebolt still knows I'm one of the good guys. Although, I've also gotten to read Harry's tear filled departure from Ginny, and how I've been giving you longing looks as I flee the castle, with Draco, who appears to be some sort of Blond-Sex-God, in tow."

"Hmmm… Blond British Sex God, who do we think is crushing on a professor?"

Snape let that slide. He felt a certain unwelcome sympathy for the idea of having a crush on Spike. He mentally shuddered, thoroughly disgusted by the idea. "Yes, and there's about forty-five more pages to go."

"Maybe that one doesn't need to be read all the way through."

"There could be a good plan in there."

"Well, then, read away and tell me more about Draco Malfoy, Blond Sex God's, exploits. He doesn't happen to have a leather coat does he?"

"Urgh."

Hermione placed Cindy's aside and picked up the next plan. It was also short and to the point. As her eyes moved across the page she thought about her earlier conversation with Severus about ruthless efficiency.

"This one kidnapped all the DE children and killed all the Death Eaters in Azkaban as soon as Voldemort rose again."

Snape looked up again. "You said it happened every year."

"Yes, but this is the first year the same plan had both ideas."

She continued to read, and shook her head as she got further. "Ouch. Buffy needs to see this one. Emma may be a bit too enthusiastic. She's added a spell to find everyone with a Dark Mark, and then round them all up and kill them all as well. Once all known Death Eaters are killed, go after Voldemort. Place him in some sort of stasis. Kill Harry. Use Legilimency to find out what the Horcruxes were and where. Destroy him and them."

"I thought they got extra points for keeping Harry alive."

"They do. That's one of the reasons this one worries me. She's not going out of her way to keep anyone alive."

"Well, while you read that page, I've learned that you and I have had a long simmering relationship, never acted upon, involving longing looks on my part, and your deep desire for my mind and body."

Hermione winced. "You really need to show Abby your Greasy Git routine. I don't think anyone was harboring a deep desire for your body back in those days."

"It was a perfectly fine body."

"I'm not saying it wasn't. I'm saying you did such a good job of hiding it under that evil attitude that no one even wondered about it. Plus, she really doesn't seem to have any idea of just how unappealing I was as a teenager."

"You weren't that bad."

"I wasn't that great."

"Well, I'm sure there was the same sort of thing going on. Your body was so well hidden by your bookworm exterior, that no one went looking for it."

Hermione smiled at him and winked. "Or maybe not…"

"Really?" Severus found himself interested. He supposed that wasn't typical male behaviour, but he sort of liked the idea she had some sort of past.

"Somehow Krum noticed me."

He smiled back. "Bulgarian guys like lots of hair."

"Ahh…" Hermione picked up her the next plan and read in silence. Her head rose when Snape laughed. "What?"

"Oh, I just apparated into Grimmauld Place to see you. We've devised a plan. It's not too bad. You tell me about the Horcrux hunt. Then I tell Voldemort. He'll want his Horcruxes moved to safety, and I offer to make sure they are kept hidden. He trusts me because I killed Dumbledore, and then I produce perfect fakes and give you guys the real ones. Somehow, you instinctively know to trust me, and there's lots of repressed sexual tension. And here's where I laughed, we're talking about how Potter can never know I'm one of the good guys because of his connection to Voldemort."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, not immediately seeing the problem. Snape continued, "If he can't hold the idea that I'm one of the 'white hats' safe, how is he supposed to keep the fact that you're destroying the Horcruxes from Voldemort's attention?" Hermione shrugged. It had worked in real life.

Snape returned to reading. "Oh. She came up with an answer for that as well. I've told Voldemort I'd replace the real ones with fakes, and that you'd destroy the fakes, thinking you were killing him. This is getting to be a better plan by the page."

They both went back to their reading. Snape laughed again. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Ron's being a git, and you're pining for a real man: a dark man with a large nose, a man with experience, and very long fingers…" Snape held up his hand and looked at it critically. "They're not that long."

Hermione gave a short laugh as well. "What's Harry doing?"

"Very little. Mostly moping about missing Ginny and feeling guilty about making everyone's life worse. Add in the occasional blinding headache where he writhes around on the floor screaming, and you've got his entire contribution. Apparently you and I are going to win this single handed."

They both read quietly for several minutes. Hermione stretched, grabbed a drink, and read some more. She put down the plan she was reading, and laid back staring at the ceiling. Snape continued to read his copy.

After several moments of thought Hermione said, "I like this one. Capture Voldemort, cast a resouling spell, kill him."

"Who wrote that?"

"Judy."

"Are there resouling spells?"

"Willow's got one."

"Would it work?"

"No way to know without trying. How is your plan going?"

"Ahhh…. too much time has gone by without you finding a real Horcrux. So now I'm offering to lead you to them to speed up the day when Harry comes to find Voldemort."

"How did you get Voldemort to believe that we'd believe you?"

"Oh, I've got you under the Imperius, and Potter and Weasley will do anything you tell them to."

"He believes that?"

"In this story he does. So now I'm meeting with you openly, at least to the Death Eaters, and speeding up the process by hiding the 'fakes' and telling you where to find them. Ron and Harry haven't noticed your increasingly long absences while the two of us talk strategy and gaze longingly at each other." He read a few more lines. "Oh, you just touched my face and told me to be careful. And I've left in a confused huff, uncertain what to do with your affection, and feeling guilty about the fact that I'm twenty years older than you."

They went back to reading. Eventually Hermione said, "Oh, yuck."

"Oh, yuck? Have I ever heard you say that word before?"

"Too much time with the Yanks. Here's the plan: Capture Voldemort. Hold him until he repents, and his soul heals. Show him examples of love and faith. Love and care for him. Smother him in loving, happy goodness until his soul bits come home, and he, now restored to full soulness, becomes one of the good guys."

"Oh, yuck," Snape said with withering sarcasm. "Maybe there's a bit too much redemption around this place?"

"Maybe. What's happening with Abby's saga?"

"Here's a nice touch: Harry has collected the Horcruxes, and gives them to Arthur to take to the Ministry of Magic. He tosses them through the Veil."

"How are we carrying them?"

"In a sack."

"Hmmm… When we carried the locket we wore it, and it drove each of us bonkers. So much hate and rage, fear and anger, it began to make you think bad thoughts. I can't imagine carrying around a sack full of them."

"Well, Arthur's got it now. All that's left is Nagini and Harry."

"Does Arthur know what it is?"

"Yes. He's willing to do the job to make sure you all get home safely."

"How does he get into the Ministry?"

"He works there."

"Ahhh… Did Voldemort capture the Ministry in this reality?"

"I'm not sure. I don't see anything that says one way or another. But Arthur's sharp. I'm sure he can get into the Department of Mysteries if need be. Even with Death Eaters behind every door."

Hermione picked up the last of the entries. She settled down to read, it was several pages long. Not a saga like Abby's but not a simple plan either. While her eyes moved over the pages, Severus said, "Here's the climax, fight at the Ministry Part II. Yes, the Death Eaters have taken over the Ministry. Harry's at the Veil, waiting for Voldemort to show up, you and Ron are keeping the Death Eaters at bay. I'm back at Malfoy Manor, waiting to find out that Harry and Voldemort are in battle. Voldemort shows up. Long bit of exposition: 'I'm so evil. I'm so powerful. Now you die!' He and Harry are fighting. Harry tackles Voldemort, forcing both of them through the Veil. Voldemort lets him because he knows that you've been destroying 'fake' Horcruxes. You send me a signal, and I kill Nagini, apparate to your side, and the three of us begin killing Death Eaters right and left. Arthur and the rest of the Order have just descended on the Ministry to retake it from the Death Eaters." He scanned quickly, flipping through eight pages of text. "It's a big battle. We're much better fighters than in real life. Neville kills Bellatrix. Remus gets Pettigrew. Finally all the Death Eaters are gone, except me, but both you and Ron saw me fight at your side, saving both of your lives. The battle ends, and we're kissing. Ron is waiting pensively for Harry to come back from the Veil, and he does. Everyone lives, everyone is happy, and all the Death Eaters are vanquished."

"Nice."

"Yes, it's very tidy."

"Maybe I'll have to come up with a special category for most entertaining plan."

"It's not a bad bit of strategy, though. The double-crossed, fake Horcrux hunt idea is a pretty good one. Voldemort would have liked the idea as well. Especially if he thought he'd have a body waiting for him right after he died the second time. He'd be able to show everyone that he was the great unkillable wizard, and that Harry Potter was just some mortal git. He might have gone for that plan…" Snape looked very thoughtful. "Plus, Blond Sex God Malfoy doesn't show up anywhere but the first chapter. I was dreading that I'd have to read about him joining the Order or something."

Hermione scanned another plan, while Snape shuffled through the others. After a moment she said, "You know what I've noticed?"

"What?"

"In four years of this challenge, not a single entry has ever had anything to do with the Deathly Hallows. It's in the background information I provided them. Yet not one girl has ever decided to do anything with them. Not even to use the wand as a trap for Voldemort. Every single one of these girls can see the bloody things are irrelevant, but Dumbledore couldn't."

"Dumbledore was obsessed with them. Didn't you tell me that's how he ended up with the curse that killed his hand?"

Hermione looked like she was on the border of angry. "Yes, so eager to use the stone, he didn't bother to check to see what else might have been there. It just makes me so angry. We spent ages trying to find the meaning of his little puzzle, and then there was the debate about what to do with the damn things, and in the end it turns out we were just supposed to know about them, not do anything with them. He could have just left a Pensieve memory for us, but no, that would have been too easy. I had to figure it out based on a bloody kid's book and one fucking picture. Then on top of it all, he was a moron. He didn't come up with any sort of real plan. He just let us wander about in the wilderness, lost. He knew he was dying. He knew Harry would be taking over the hunt. He knew we'd be coming along, and he did nothing to really prepare us. It's like he wanted us to fail. Who in his right mind lets three seventeen-year-olds do that without any help? Take when we left the Dursleys: what was the point of that? To make sure you still had spy credibility? Moody died in that raid. Hedwig died in that raid. George was maimed, and all that really needed to happen was to have Harry apparate from his Aunt's home the minute he turned seventeen. The house would have been empty, so what if every Death Eater on the planet attacked it as soon as the protection went down? Harry wouldn't have been in there. The rest of the Order and the Aurors could have counter attacked." Her eyes were burning. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then did it again. "This isn't helping. Just thinking about all that wasted energy, all the shit that man made us wade through." She shook her head. "Let's hit the pool, I need to burn some of this off."

"The pool?" Snape felt cold at the idea. He didn't want to go for a dip in the pool if he could avoid it.

"Yeah, sometimes a good bout of exercise helps when I'm angry."

He found an alternative quickly. "How about we spar? Blow off more steam more quickly that way."

"Okay. I thought you liked swimming."

"I'd rather fight. You burn up more aggression that way. You look like you'd rather fight, also. Plus, all that I've been reading… It makes me want to see if I'm as good as I am on paper."


	50. In Which We Spar

Chapter 54: In Which We Spar

As they walked to the gym, Severus marvelled at Hermione. He could see she was angry. Deeply angry. But not at him, and so she didn't lash out at him. She remained perfectly civil, somewhat quiet, but he suspected that was part of keeping her temper in check.

When they got to the gym he asked her, "How does this work?"

"You grab a space. I'm going to take a few minutes to beat that punching bag."

He nodded and found a space towards the back of the gym that none of the other girls were using. Then he turned to watch her. After ten seconds, he was deeply glad to not be that punching bag or Dumbledore. She was punching, kicking, and occasionally hitting it with her elbows. After several minutes she came to him, skin pink, sweat trickling down her forehead.

"Better?" he asked.

"A little. The ground rules are easy; first one to land ten spells wins."

"Any spell?"

"Certainly. Just make sure we can fix any damage that might ensue."

The first round went to Snape. His stunning spell knocked Hermione cold, and he quickly cast nine other minor spells.

She stood up shaking her head. "That's not quite how this works. If you knock me arse over teakettle, let me get back up again before casting the next spell."

"You wouldn't do that in a battle."

"That's why this is sparring."

They faced off one more time. This time Snape found himself hanging in the air from his left foot, while Hermione went after her wand. His disarming spell hit her just a second after she got Levicorpus out.

When she got him back down again, he said, "One for each of us?"

"That's how it works."

He smiled and used Legilimency to wave away her next four spells. When she stopped to give him a frustrated look, he cast a quick non-verbal Jelly Legs Jinx. He quickly removed the curse.

"Two for me, one for you," he said as he helped her up from the gym floor.

She didn't wait for a second to go by from his last word. The summoning spell brought his wand to her hand, and then she used it to cast a Bat Bogey Hex on him. She stopped the curse, and then tossed his wand back to him.

"Two for you, three for me," she replied.

"What happened to stopping between rounds?" He cast the non-verbal summoning spell while asking the question, and then used her wand to cast a Bat Bogey Hex back at her. She used a wandless shield to deflect it, and then fired back with shock wave that made him drop the wands.

"Three for you, four for me," Hermione said. He focused all his energy on bringing his wand back to him, and it obeyed, jumping to his hand.

"How about we stick to wanded magic? Let me get more than two lessons into wandless before we spar with it," he said.

She winked at him. "That sounds fair."

A crowd of Slayers had gathered around them. She did a quick barrier spell. "We don't want any of them getting hit by accident."

"Of course not. And really, it's four for me, and four for you, because I landed a Legilimency you didn't notice two or three rounds back."

"Really?" Hermione cast a stunner, and he waved it away.

"Really. All I have to do is pay attention and keep up the eye contact."

"In that case…" The spell she cast was on herself. Three Hermiones stood in front of him, each one moving independently of the others. But while she cast her spell, he cast his, and now the score was Snape five, Hermione four.

The Hermiones moved to circle Snape, leaving him unable to keep up eye contact with all three. Fortunately for him, he could feel which one was the real Hermione. _Must be part of that sensitivity to life magic. Nice! _A second passed while he felt pleased about how easy it was to tell which was the real Hermione._ Damn! _He was hit with sedation charm that dropped him to the floor.

"Five to five." She released the charm and stood over him, waiting for him to get up. He decided it was time to dig deeper into his bag of tricks. His hand snaked out and grabbed her ankle, dropping her to the mat, while he cast a sleeping spell with his other hand.

When she woke up, she was on the floor and he was standing. "Six to five. You didn't say anything about waiting for me to get up after you knocked me arse over teakettle." The two other Hermiones had vanished while she slept.

She hopped to her feet, and had her wand out in one smooth move. He was already focused and using Legilimency to see what she would do next. He was ready to wave away the spell that her mind had told him was coming next. What actually happened was that she used a sweeping kick to knock his legs out from under him, and then cast a levitation spell on him. While he floated in the air, she asked, "Do you really want to add in physical fighting with the wand work?"

Instead of answering her, he cast another Levicorpus, flipping her upside down.

"Yes, but how about we both let each other down before the next round?" They both hit the floor. "Lovely use of two thoughts at once."

"Thank you. Next time don't tell me you landed a Legilimency spell just for the extra point. What's the score?"

"Seven to six, my lead."

"I'll have to fix that." And she did. A very quick non-verbal Expeliamus sent his wand tumbling.

"Seven to seven." She brought his wand back to him.

He had just begun to apparate, the idea being he'd land behind her, and cast from there, when he remembered that apparating on the Council's grounds was a very bad idea. He stopped the spell before it got going, but was hit with one of hers while he did it.

"Eight to seven. What happened? It looked like you just let me hit you."

"I remembered a second too late that you can't apparate here."

"Or you could say you remembered just in the nick of time."

"Either way, you got an easy point. Ready?"

They both looked at each other for a full minute, neither moving, waiting to see who would cast, move, twitch first. What happened was a draw. Both wands went flying, because both cast at the same time. They went for their wands, and stood at the ready again.

"Nine to eight, my favour," Hermione said.

"Not for long," Snape replied. He waited to see her begin to move, and then he dropped to the floor, rolling, while casting the first spell, her wand went flying as her stunning spell flew over him, his second spell, also a stunner, hit her before her wand landed.

He crawled over to where she lay on the floor. "Ten to eight, my match." He smiled, kissed her, and offered her his hand to pull her up.

"Still angry?"

"No, I can't say that I am. When did you learn to fight like that?"

"Hermione, my dear, I retired from fighting the first time when I was younger than you are now. I've had time to learn a few tricks. The fact you made me dig that deeply into my bag of them was impressive. I'm glad I never had to fight you for real."

"Me, too."

At which point Hermione let down the protective barrier spell that kept the watching Slayers safe. She noticed Dean and Amber in the crowd as well. Dean's mouth was open and his eyes were wide. Dean rushed to her side.

"Professor Granger! I didn't know… I never imagined… You were amazing!"

"They don't give Order of Merlin medals to just anyone, Dean."

"But still…"

"You should have seen Professor McGonagall, or Molly Weasley, or Nymphadora Lupin at the battle of Hogwarts, Dean, those witches could really fight. What brings you here tonight?"

"Oh, Sophie, Karen, and Xia wanted me to see how they fight so I can design a more resistant wand. Apparently they're too easy to break in normal combat. I was going to watch them fight. Then we saw the crowd, and decided to watch you two."

"Good show?"

"Bloody excellent!"

While Dean and Hermione were talking, half a dozen Slayers were trying to get Snape to fight them. He was holding up his hands trying to calm them down when Hermione turned back to him.

"Ladies, I really don't want to try a fist on wand fight. I have no desire to be a huge bruise in the morning. Besides, we were just taking a break from reading the Defeat the Dark Lord entries. We've got to get back to that if you want to know who won tomorrow."

As they walked out of the gym Hermione said, "How about we slip into the pool now? We're both hot and sweaty. A skinny dip might do us some good."

Snape's lips tightened. Hermione was watching him closely. "Severus, what's going on with you and the pool? You went swimming happily yesterday."

"How about we get back to our room, hop in the shower, and I'll tell you?"

"How mysterious... I'm game."

They got to their room, and Snape turned on the water to their shower. He remained quiet while they disrobed, and Hermione let the water beat down on her, smiling at him happily. "So tell me why you've got a newfound fear of the pool."

"You remember that I was supposed to be finding out about what my element is?"

"Yes. Oh, last night was your dream. Something unpleasant with the pool?"

"You could say that." He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "It turns out that my element is life."

"Willow mentioned that. It's so fascinating. There's so much to research on that. So many new things to learn. I'm starting to get a book list for further reading we can do."

"Yes. Well… The dream used the pool to show me that."

"That works, water is a major life symbol. Why so bothered?"

"You, me, Buffy, and Spike were all shagging in the pool." His face was bright pink, and she severely doubted it had anything to do with the temperature of the water.

"Oh. Well. Buffy's cute."

"You think I'd be blushing about a dream where I was shagging Buffy?"

"Well, no, not really. I was trying to give you an easy way out of having to tell me what really happened."

"Well, Willow tells me that 'accepting the death symbol' is a very important part of a life/death dream, and shagging," he winced, "Spike, is just my brain's way of doing it."

"Hmmm… I would have liked to have seen that." She smiled up at him, holding him close.

"Ick." He winced again.

"In fact, stick George in there, and that would be just perfect." She kissed his bottom lip.

"Noo! Don't tell me that. I do not want to know you think a George/Spike/Severus threesome would be fun to watch. I don't even like saying the words." He was pulling away from her, looking disturbed.

"Really, blonde, red, and black, all different body types, all wet and naked, you'd be so pretty all together." She was smiling widely. Apparently teasing him was almost as good as fighting for getting her into a good mood.

"We never had this conversation. We will never have this conversation again. I now need to go and perform a specialized Obliviate on myself to remove these last five minutes."

"I bet the girls would really like to watch…"

"Noooo…."

He fled the shower, and she followed laughing. "Okay, you aren't gay. You really, really aren't gay. You aren't bi. You really, really aren't bi. I can live with that. I'll stop teasing you."

"What about you? You and Buffy, doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all. I'm not saying I have any desire to do anything with her, but it doesn't repulse me. She's pretty, she's fun, and I bet she'd be good in bed or the pool." She smiled brightly. Snape was shaking his head.

"You wouldn't want to see the two of us?"

"I didn't say that. What man in his right mind wouldn't want to see you two? No, I just have a hard time understanding how blasé you are."

"George married Angelina first, and then both of them married Deirdre. They aren't two couples; they're a triple. I had three options: get used to the idea, pretend it didn't happen, or cut them off. I don't like to fake reality, and nothing short of death is going to take George out of my life. Besides, if you can want to see Buffy and I, why can't you get that I'd want to see you and Spike?"

"I understand that, at least from an aesthetic perspective." Not really. Snape was not a fan of the naked male form, but he was at least willing to say it. "I don't get that you and Buffy doesn't bother _you_."

"It just doesn't. As I said, I'm not interested in doing anything about it. But it doesn't bother me. I guess I'd rather pick my bed mates by their personalities rather than their plumbing."

Severus sat thinking about that. When he spoke, he asked, "Have you and Spike and Buffy ever…?"

"No." She laughed happily at that idea. "We've never even flirted with the idea... Well, not seriously. For all I know they're monogamous."

"So, let me get this straight: I just told you I was dreaming about having sex with someone else, a male someone else, and it does not bother you?"

"No. I trust you Severus. Plus you're practically green; it doesn't look like you're about to run off anytime soon."

"Why do you trust me?" He looked concerned.

She looked extremely relaxed as she cleared away papers to make a place to sit down on the bed. "I always did as a child, and then, when we all thought you had betrayed us I just couldn't believe it. I knew it happened, but I couldn't make myself feel it was real. A year later I knew it wasn't. It was a relief to know the world made some sort of sense."

He looked content with her answer, and sat down on the bed across from her. "So, here's what I don't understand. You're fine with the idea of male or female bed mates, but you've only had sex with Ron and me."

"I have very high standards." She smiled and then continued on, "I was in mourning for a very long time. By the time I wasn't, most of the men I was interested in were married to other women, and they didn't start looking at me until the law passed. I've never met a woman I liked enough to want to sleep with. Ginny's lovely, but she might as well be my little sister. Plus, I'm not a big fan of casual sex. I wouldn't want to go pick someone up in a bar. I want to want the person I'm sleeping with, and on first brush I haven't yet met anyone I wanted that way. I have to know the person first."

"Does it bother you that just about all the sex I've had was casual?"

"Not terribly." She paused, thinking. "Well, a little, actually. But I understand you weren't looking for the same thing I was. And I surely understand that we both desire people differently. The last ten minutes is a testament to that. Besides, I don't have any right to be upset about your past, not when I said yes to your present and future knowing about it. Although I'd appreciate you not doing it in the future."

"You're the only one I'm planning on sleeping with in the future."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I don't think it'll work out that way." She kept her face straight, and his fell a bit. Then she spoke quickly, smiling, before he got too upset: "I'm sure when we have kids they'll want to sleep with us as well."

He lunged across the bed, scattering Defeat Lord Voldemort proposals and tackling her with tickles.

"The little buggers can sleep on the floor. You're mine."


	51. In Which We Pick A Winner

Chapter 55: In Which A Winner Is Picked

Snape was outside, behind the school, surrounded by two dozen girls and three boys. They had all decided that Occlumency may indeed come in handy or they wanted to get out of their usually scheduled responsibilities. Either way, it was time for him to try and teach something without scaring those who intended to learn with him.

He had chosen the spot where several of the girls did their morning exercise/yoga routines. The grass was soft and well suited for lying on, the sun filtered through the trees, and the girls seemed relaxed in this setting.

They were circled around him, looking expectant. Last night's escapade in the gym seemed to have done his reputation good; almost all of the Slayers in residence had decided to join him.

"I want you to all get comfortable. Sit, lay, get into lotus position, something that feels good and requires minimal effort from you to maintain." He gave them several minutes to get settled, most opted to lie down, but a few were in lotus position.

"Occlumency is not magic. It's discipline. It's the art of keeping your mind and emotions in check and hidden away from unwanted attentions. At its highest level, it will allow you to lie to someone without ever speaking a word. At its most basic, it will allow you to keep your intentions to yourself.

"We're going to start simply. I want you to relax and close your mind. Focus on nothing. Let your heads become empty. I'll give you some time, and then I'll give each of you a gentle mental nudge. If you've succeeded in keeping your mind quiet, all I'll see is a blank. If not, I'll get a quick view of your surface thoughts."

He sat and watched the leaves move above him. The Slayers were silent. Some even appeared to have fallen asleep. After a suitable bit of time, he began to probe.

"_The grass is tickling my ears..." "Ommmmm…" "I really can't believe she said that..." "God, these girls are hot…" "…" "Zzzzzz…" "A squared plus b squared equals c squared. A right angle is ninety degrees…" "…" "I hope my plan won…" "Maybe I should dye my hair tonight; the roots are getting pretty long…" "Mani padme oommmm…." "…" "Shut up, shut up, shut up…" "Discipline, I can do discipline." "Hi there Mr Snape, if you get bored with Hermione my room is…" "…" "…" "I wonder if Dean has a girlfriend…" "After this I need to…" "Andrew will be back next week. I can't wait to…" "…" "This is stupid; I thought we'd be learning magic…" "…" "…"_

He stopped probing their minds. "It looks like some of you are naturals at this. The rest of you need to work on keeping your mind quiet. Some of you were doing a mantra. If you can't make your mind perfectly quiet, a mantra is a good substitute. Anything that allows an outsider to view something other than your real thoughts will work. Now we do it again. Minds quiet, thoughts empty."

They continued for three hours, by the end of which almost all of them had quieted their minds, and those who hadn't had managed to keep up a constant mantra.

"That's good for today, tomorrow we'll do a bit more with this, and then we'll work on doing something else while keeping your mind blank."

Willow and Hermione joined him a moment later.

"Nice work," Willow said.

"It's much easier to train people who have spent their lives working with discipline. The yoga Buffy has them doing helps as well."

"Strong, flexible, and focused, that's the point of it," Willow answered.

"So how has your morning gone?"

"Splendidly," Hermione replied. "We've been working on channelling the energy around us."

"Why?" Severus asked.

"If you use the energy around you, rather than your own energy, you don't get nearly as tired by the magic."

Willow took over the explanation. "It's part of the reason for your wands. They do the job of energy focus, protecting you from too much of a drain. The universe has infinite energy resources. You have finite resources, so you're much better off using its energy instead of yours."

"Makes sense." They began to walk toward the kitchen. "Shall we grab some lunch and finish our discussion on who won the Defeat the Dark Lord Challenge?" Snape asked Hermione.

"Sounds good. They'll be itching for the result soon."

They gathered food and returned to the grassy spot under the trees. Snape lay on his stomach and began to eat his sandwich. Hermione sat cross-legged and sipped her drink. They munched in comfort for a few minutes before beginning the discussion.

"Who's your winner?" Hermione asked him while nibbling a pickle.

"Abby. Hands down."

"Why?" She looked a bit surprised. "I would have thought the story would have put you off of it."

"It's true I didn't love the story, but I think Voldemort would have gone for the fake Horcrux double cross. That and it was the only plan where the words, 'capture Voldemort', didn't appear. They seem to think that capturing Voldemort would be just as easily said as done."

"That's not quite true. The last plan I read had a seven page detailed assessment of Malfoy Manor, Voldemort's habits, multiple attack squads, anti-apparition spells laid on the property, and a very detailed list of what to do with him after he was captured. What it didn't have was what to do about the Horcruxes."

Snape winced. "Yes, that will disqualify a plan. It doesn't matter if you capture him; you've got to get rid of him, as well. Your winner?"

"I really liked the resouling of Voldemort."

"But you've still got capture and kill him to pull it off. Abby's plan required Voldemort to be Voldemort; he loved insanely complicated plans that allowed him to show off how great he was. So which would have been easier: getting you to trust me again or capturing and killing Voldemort?"

"Bugger… If I had known you were still one of us ahead of time, it wouldn't have been a problem, beyond meeting you without Ron or Harry noticing. They did trust me and my amazing brains so much so that any plausible theory I could have come up with would have been fine by them. It's so simple: all I would have had to do was say, 'I need some time to read and think alone,' hop into the library at Grimmauld Place, and then send my Patronus to you to let you know I was alone, and then you could have sent the message back by yours."

"So the sticking point of that plan is we need to change the past to make it so at least you know that I'm still one of the good guys. If we don't stipulate that, is there any chance this plan could have worked?"

"Between slim and none. It wouldn't have been impossible, but it would have been immensely unlikely. We really did believe that no one was to know about the Horcruxes. It started out as just the three of us, but we were floundering around with no luck and no hope, so we brought in Fred and George. They didn't have much insight into where a Horcrux might have been, but they at least helped keep us from killing each other. Then Ron died, and Ginny replaced him. After Fred died, Harry kind of let Neville know what was up, just enough to let him know Nagini had to be killed. We didn't even tell Lupin when he offered to join us."

"Lupin offered to join? I thought he spent his whole Order career wasted on Dumbledore's harebrained scheme to get the werewolves out of play."

"He got a massive case of cold feet when Tonks got pregnant. Harry sent him home. No way one orphan was going to help create another one, at least, not that way."

"So, we're still stuck with two issues: you somehow have to trust me enough to set Abby's plan into motion or Voldemort has to be captured."

"We never did capture him or even came close for that matter. I did trust you. I wanted to trust you. So that makes the idea possible, if not likely. But we never got him." She was shaking her head.

"Yes, but to the best of my knowledge, no one ever tried."

"No one ever tried?" Hermione looked incredulous.

"I didn't think it made much sense at the time. It made my job easier. I never had to report an attack was brewing because there never was one. Knowing about the Horcruxes now: my best guess is that Dumbledore didn't want to risk getting Voldemort killed yet again, and then having to wait however long until he came up with another new body, and the whole cycle started again. But it could be he just didn't want to deal with all that would go with trying to capture him. The main job of the Order was to make sure the Death Eaters did as little damage as possible."

Hermione lay back in the grass. Tired frustration radiated off of her.

"How did Dumbledore end up in charge?"

"For all of his shortcomings, the man knew that trouble was coming. He never believed that Voldemort was dead, really dead, in the first place, and he began planning for his return from November 1, 1981."

"Was he in charge of the first Order?"

"Yes. Order of the _Phoenix._ We can guess that's a tribute to Fawkes, or he always believed Voldemort would be a returning threat."

"So how did he end up in charge the first time?" Snape was silent. Hermione continued, "And better yet, with so many of you getting killed, why did he stay in charge?"

Snape thought about it while playing with a piece of grass and watching the clouds. "No one else wanted the job." He chewed on the grass. "It's easy to see how a better job could have been done, would have been done had someone else stepped up, but no one did. By the time others were willing to acknowledge the problem, Dumbledore had been in charge for years, and no one was willing to question him. He was Dumbledore: larger than life, better than us mere mortals, more powerful, more intelligent, more worthy. You've been there with him, he filled up the room, and people just wanted to trust him."

Snape shook his head. "Then real life came and smacked us in the head, and we saw he wasn't, but by that time, who else was there? Moody was half bonkers, most of the rest were too young to really lead. Who took over after Dumbledore died?"

"Shacklebolt? Maybe. We weren't members. Molly or Arthur could tell you. It wasn't Minerva or Moody or Lupin or Arthur. It didn't matter; we knew that he didn't want the Order to know what we were up to, so we never bothered to find out what it was doing after we headed out on our own."

They sat quietly, staring at the sky, remembering the man who had shaped so much of each of their lives. Finally Hermione asked, "Have you ever read any Muggle psychology?"

"I know who Freud is, but that's about it."

"That's about where I am as well, but somewhere, in the back of my mind, is something about the feelings of disappointment and betrayal that come when you realize your parents are real people."

"It could be. He certainly filled the role of 'Father:' all wise, all knowing, and able to solve any problem. Father as we think of him as little, little children. Father as we wanted him to be."

"And as he never was."

"And never could be." Severus looked around and saw a group of Slayers watching him intently. "And it doesn't get us any closer to the winner. To trust or capture?"

"Trust."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, as you said, Voldemort liked insanely complex plots that showed off his brilliance. Abby's plan does more to take him into account than anything I've seen in several years. Also, the resouling spell has only been used on intact souls; there's no way to know if it would have worked on a fractured soul."

"Abby's day is about to get quite a bit better."

"And you, what's up for the rest of your day?" Hermione asked.

"Working with Willow this afternoon. Magical versus non-magical potions testing tonight. Giles told me that both of our potions worked, but mine lasted the full twelve hours. Yours worked for about six. Anya was thrilled with both. First real meal she's had in weeks according to Giles. Apparently the hormone swings are not nearly as bad when she's eaten. And you?"

"More wanded magic for Slayers. I've probably only got a day or two of teaching left before Amber and Rose can take my place here. Then we could go on holiday or stick around a bit longer if you like."

"I think it's time to head off. I can wrap us basic Occlumency in that time, and then…"

"Then… How about we start with New York and find our way from there."

"Sounds lovely."


	52. In Which We Get Postcards

Chapter 56: In Which We Get Postcards

The first postcard arrived at Grimmauld Place three days after Hermione and Snape had left. Because of the long distances, Hermione had set up a pair of boxes that allowed letters to apparate between them. Harry had one of the boxes. She had the other.

It looked like a Muggle Postcard until Harry hit it with his wand and said, "Revelio." Then the building on the front "The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame" was replaced with wizarding photos. Each time he tapped the card, a new photo would appear.

The first photo was Snape floating in a pool. It was followed by both of them standing in front of the Eric Clapton display at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The final picture had Snape, Hermione, and several people Harry didn't recognize, although one looked remarkably like Ron, sitting at a table, laughing and eating.

He flipped it over:

_Harry & Ginny_

_We've just gotten here. Lots fun things to do and learn. Snape is working on his wandless magic. I'm being further versed in the joy that is Rock and Roll, and we're all eating on a regular basis. I'll tell you who everyone is when we get back._

_Love,_

_Hermione._

The second postcard came two days later. It showed the Statue of Liberty. When Ginny activated it, she saw Snape sitting at a tiny table with a huge sandwich in front of him. That was followed by Hermione waving at the camera wearing an I Heart NY T-shirt. The last photo showed both of them in an art gallery looking at someone sitting on a chair.

_Hello Luvs,_

_We have made it to the Big Apple. Much to see and do. I highly recommend the Stage Deli if you ever get over here. Severus thinks me in the T-shirt is funny. I think a woman sitting on a chair for days at a time and calling it art is funny._

_Laughingly yours,_

_Hermione_

The next card was also New York. This one featured the skyline as its Muggle shot, and then morphed into Snape and Hermione at a table in an upscale restaurant with something that could have been food or could have been art, sitting in front of them. Hermione looked like she was trying to figure out how to eat it. Snape was tucking into his.

_H&G_

_I couldn't resist sending another shot. This is molecular gastronomy. The thing in front of us is foie gras that has been somehow coaxed into forming a knot. This was part three of a many part meal. I'm thinking regular gastronomy might be more my scene. Some of it was really tasty, but I could go the rest of my life without ever encountering fried mayonnaise again._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

One last New York post card arrived a day after the molecular gastronomy one. (Which involved a heated discussion between Harry and Ginny on what exactly mayonnaise was, and why on earth someone would want to fry it.) It was just a Muggle picture, with a few words from Hermione on the back. Snape and Hermione sat in a horse drawn carriage in front of a large park. He had an arm wrapped around her, and she was resting her head against his shoulder.

_Can't do New York without the horse drawn carriage ride in Central Park. I'll want this one back when I get home._

_'Hermione_

A line of houses in pink, green, blue, and yellow stretched from the one side of the photo to the other on the next day's card. Each house was awash in vibrantly contrasting gingerbread detailing, looking like someone with a major speed habit and a jig saw had been at work. The line of text at the bottom of the card read: Cape May, New Jersey. The next image was of Snape reclining on a beach chair under an umbrella, while Hermione stood next to him watching the waves. The next shot was Hermione riding a wave in on a boogie board.

_G&H,_

_The Americans call this Victorian. Severus calls it horrifying. "Even the curly cues have curly cues!" I'm tempted to agree. The beach (they call is the shore here) is lovely. I've taken up boogie boarding. _

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Another post card showed up later that day. It was a plain Muggle one that said Sunset Beach, Cape May. The picture was a lovely beach sunset, with something that looked like small black bunker sticking out of the water.

_Harry,_

_I had to send you this; I think you'll appreciate it. (Tell Arthur about it as well; he'll have a giggle.) That black thing in the water is the top bit of a battleship that sank here during The Great War. Apparently some brilliant yank engineer decided that since metal was in great demand, why not build a concrete battleship? Amazingly enough it sailed almost a kilometre before it sank like the rock it was._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Two days passed without a postcard, then came one with the image of garden hidden behind a house, visible though a wrought iron fence. Butterflies flitted about the photo. The text read:

_H&G,_

_We were warned not to go to Charleston in the summer: too hot, too humid. They were right; it's like walking through soup here. We stayed just long enough to take this shot, and then headed further south. We'll try again in the fall one of these years. Next up: Florida. _

_Love,_

_Hermione_

A large castle sat in the middle of the picture. In the background fireworks exploded. The post card read "Cinderella's Castle." Some faint memories for Harry of movies seen briefly before Dudley bullied him out of the room arose at the sight. When tapped it showed Snape and Hermione standing next to an enormous cartoon mouse. (Harry had a hard time explaining why this was a big deal to Ginny and his kids.) Snape was scowling. Hermione was smiling. The back read:

_G&H_

_Snape lost the bet to see which one of us was better at blind apparition. He doesn't look pleased to be spending time with Mickey, but I've not been cruel. You should have seen the costume I would have worn had he won. All I can say is: I do not make a pretty Jasmine! We're enjoying the rides, and tomorrow we're off to the Keys! Probably be home in a week or ten days._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

The final post card that week was a picture of a sea turtle swimming through impossibly green water; the words 'Key Largo' graced the bottom right corner. When tapped it revealed Snape and Hermione on the beach, both tanner than in their earlier shots. The next tap of Ginny's wand revealed Hermione underwater, colourful fish dancing about her.

_Ginny and Harry,_

_We came, we saw, we dove! As I write this we're both healing up from a massive case of sunburn, but we had a very good time getting it. We're also eating and indecent amount of crab and conch. Another day or two here, and then off to the West Coast, where we'll rent a car, and drive from almost Mexico to almost Canada._

_Love, _

_Hermione_

_P.S. It's always a good plan to go on vacation with a Potions Master, especially after too much sunshine!_


	53. In Which We Enjoy A Little Sun

Chapter 57: In Which We Enjoy A Little Sun

The beach was conveniently empty. For some reason all the muggles interested in going for a swim or time in the sun suddenly realized they had other business in need of attending. Urgent business. Which meant Snape and Hermione were the only humans around for almost a mile in any direction. Which just happened to suit both of them just fine.

Hermione had packed a picnic for them. Severus had made sure that no one else would want the beach. They both spent several hours splashing about in the remarkably warm, emerald coloured water.

After lunch they lay on their blanket, under the umbrella, comfortable in the shade. The breeze had picked up and provided a lovely cooling effect. Snape rolled onto his side, and let his eyes wander up and down Hermione, stopping at her ankle.

"Is that the same anklet you made the day of the ball?"

"Yes."

"It didn't have little trinkets on it before."

"No, I've added one for each place we've visited." He sat up, and she placed her foot in his lap so he could see it better. A tiny wooden spike, a little I Heart NY charm, a miniature Victorian house, a small silver butterfly, and a little Mickey Mouse had all added themselves onto her chain. He looked up from her foot, holding her gaze with his, placed a kiss on her ankle, and then walked off to the surf.

Hermione watched him from her spot on the blanket. He appeared to be looking for something. He bent down, picked something off the beach, gave it a quick rinse in the ocean and began to return to her.

She stood to watch his return. The breeze caught the sarong she had tied around her hips when they finished swimming and her hair, both trailed out behind her.

When he returned to the blanket, he knelt at her foot and held a small object for her inspection. It was a miniscule conch shell. When she saw it, she smiled brightly at him. He bent to her ankle and used his wand to attach it to the chain.

He ran his fingers up her leg, stroking the skin of her inner calf, and placing a gentle kiss on her knee. He looked up at her, seeing the curves of her legs, hips, tummy and breast, and felt a sudden surge of desire. The beach was empty, and until he released the wards, it would stay that way.

He reached for the knot keeping her sarong in place and untied it. The wind caught it, fluttering it away. He gazed at her bikini clad body, his eyes touching every inch of her.

"You're beautiful."

"You're not looking too bad yourself." Her smile was warm. Her skin was warm. He rested his head against her tummy while his fingers tugged on her bikini.

* * *

Hermione awoke some time later. She was hot. Very hot. Burning hot. Her skin felt tight. She knew she was lying on the blanket, on her stomach, with one arm across Severus' chest, and she knew she should be seeing the usual brownish-black of the back of her eyelids, not the red that indicated she was in full sunlight. She opened her right eye and was met with a view of an extremely pink Snape.

She shifted and then let out a moan. This movement caused Severus to awake. He also moaned, which rapidly devolved into a rather imaginative string of curse words as the pain from the burn hit him.

"The shade moved," Hermione stated the obvious. When they had fallen asleep the umbrella had provided a nice patch of shade. Now Snape from the knees down, and Hermione's right foot were still in the shade, and still somewhat tan, as opposed to the varying degrees of red that coloured the rest of them. She sat up very carefully and then suppressed a giggle. A perfect copy of her arm and hand were marked into his chest.

Severus stared at his poor, scorched skin. "I don't think we should even try to put our suits back on. Let's just apparate straight to the hotel room."

Several seconds later they were back in the air-conditioned gloom of their hotel room. Hermione was filling the bath with cool water, and Severus was working on a charm to counteract the burning sensation.

They both settled gratefully into the tepid water, careful not to touch each other, or much of anything else for that matter.

"What I wouldn't give for this tub to be full of Essence of Murtlap," Hermione said wistfully.

"I don't think I could survive the trip to get my store of it. I just about passed out from the pain with the apparition to the hotel, and that was only a matter of seconds."

"Don't be such a baby; it wasn't that bad."

"Easy for you to say; you didn't get your bits burned."

"Oh." She looked down and noticed that Snape's burn was quite a bit worse than hers. "Ouch. I'm sorry. I didn't notice how thoroughly burned you were."

"Yes, well, I wasn't lying on my stomach."

They sat in the water; Hermione carefully floating a few inches off the bottom of the tub.

"Aloe!" Her eyes gleamed when she said it.

Severus looked up as she said it, and his eyes caught her enthusiasm. "Aloe… yes… Aloe, lavender, oatmeal, and avocado. It'll look a fright, but it'll feel wonderful. Can you go out and get it?" Hermione winced at the idea of putting on clothing and leaving the room.

Severus tried to sound reasonable, as opposed to cranky. "Look, we need to put something other than cool water on this, or we're both going to get sick. I don't think I can stuff my bits into a pair of pants, and I can't wear a dress out."

"You could wear a dress, remember those guys we saw at the club a few nights ago."

Some of the more colourful members of the Miami club scene wandered through his mind. "Ha ha ha," he said without a trace of humor. "Let me restate: I will not wear a dress out. Besides, you're the bleeding Gryffindor, isn't helping those in need your second nature?"

"You aren't exactly the image of the damsel in distress."

"How much more distressed do I need to be before you rescue me? I can summon a dragon if it'll get you moving." She laughed; he began to smile, and then dropped the expression as the pain from moving his face hit.

She stood, water dripping down her rapidly heating skin. "I'll get your ingredients on two conditions. One: you put the potion on me first, and two: cast a cooling charm on my back so I can put a dress on."

"Done." He waved his wand, and a luscious coolness washed over her skin.

"That feels so good. If only it actually did some good."

"Yes, it would be nice if it actually helped the healing."

Snape floated in the tub for an extra twenty minutes. It helped some. But not nearly enough. He was starting to feel feverish, and wondered exactly how long he had before he'd succumb to sun poisoning. He very slowly, very carefully eased his way out of the tub. Dried the back of himself off as gently as possible, and sat on the edge of the bed.

Snape focused on trying to find a way to heal his skin. He could do it in a matter of minutes with a potions lab, or in a matter of hours with the ingredients Hermione would be bringing him, but on his own?

Well, he was good with cuts. But he knew what a cut was. He knew how the damage was made, and he could envision how to fix it. But with a burn? He just didn't know how a burn worked well enough to fix it by will alone.

Not to say he hadn't tried. He had a perfect looking patch of skin on his left thigh; that hurt just as much as all the rest of him. Willing his skin to look normal obviously wasn't enough. The oozing blister on his right leg showed him that just speeding up the process wasn't enough either. He needed to find something that would actually take the burn away, and he just didn't know how to do that.

It took Hermione an hour and twenty minutes to return. When she entered their room she had three large bags with her.

"I bought out the entire store of avocado…" She looked at his legs, dropped the bags and rushed to him. "What did you do to yourself?"

He gave her a chagrined smile. "I tried some wandless healing. It didn't work." He grabbed her hand as she was about to touch the normal looking spot. She winced as his fingers wrapped around the red skin on the back of her arm, and he dropped her hand with an apologetic look. "It looks right, but it isn't. I don't think I got it healed deeply enough."

"And the other side?" She looked horrified at the oozing blister.

"What will happen to us all over if I don't get to work and star slathering us with burn paste soon."

"Well, let's get to work. What do you need done?" She unpacked a large bag of avocados, two boxes of oatmeal, a huge bottle of aloe, and a large bottle of lavender oil. Next to them she placed a set of bowls, a set of spoons, three knives, and a hand mixer.

"What's in this one?" Snape looked into the bag she didn't open.

"I got us dinner, too. Conch fritters."

"Sounds good. Start pitting and peeling the avocados, and I'll get the oatmeal steeping in the lavender and aloe." In a matter of minutes they had a thick, aromatic, green paste. Severus took a heaping handful and began to smooth it down her back.

Hermione let out a sigh. "God, that's as good as the cooling spell, and this time it actually helps. Here, let me get you." She took a handful and rubbed it on his face while he did her shoulders and neck. Soon they were both groaning with relief as the pain eased and their skin began to heal.

"So, we now know sun block goes into any and all future picnic baskets," Hermione said, laying on her stomach, back covered in green goo, and chewing a piece of conch fritter.

"I'd say that's a reasonable plan for the future," Snape answered, sitting at the headboard of the bed, also covered in green goo. "Granted, I don't think we'll forget this picnic anytime soon."

"It's burned into my memory." Hermione smiled when she said it.

Snape groaned. "You better smile if you're going to come up with puns that bad."


	54. In Which More Postcards Arrive

Chapter 58: In Which More Postcards Arrive

Harry retrieved the next postcard two days later. It was a night shot of a place that looked unreal. A black pyramid with a beam of light shooting out of its tip sat in the foreground. Behind it was a castle that looked like it belonged in Hermione's Disney World postcard. A small version of the Empire States building, and something that looked like the Space Needle were nestled amid a forest of hotels, and lights spread into the background. There was no text on the card, and none was needed, even Harry could identify Las Vegas.

_Vegas Baby!_

_Hello all. We've made it to the land of sin! It's loud, bright, tacky, and hot. (Got up to 51 today, although the locals tell us it's no big deal because it's "dry heat.") It's also, though God alone knows why, the fastest growing bit of America. It seems like everyone wants their own personal bit of the paradise in the desert._

_It's also fun. Lots to do. Lots to see. Lots to eat. Out of space, more soon,_

_Hermione_

The second shot was of green table with five men sitting around it. Snape had a pile of chips in front of him, and Hermione was sitting on his knee.

_H&G,_

_We almost began to feel bad about playing for money against muggles until Snape noticed that three of them weren't and the fourth was cheating. Lots of magic of all types here. He still won. It pays to practice Legilimency and Occlumency at the Poker table. (Being able to vanish those extra aces doesn't hurt either!)_

_Rolling in it,_

_Hermione_

The final Vegas card showed up a day later. Three pictures alternated on the card. One shot of a sign outside a restaurant: All You Can Eat Steak Buffet and Nude Review! The second was a view of Snape on the rollercoaster on top of what Harry had mistakenly identified as the Space Needle. The third was a street filled with Wedding Chapels.

_Ginny and Harry,_

_How about it? Elope in Vegas? I don't think so! I'll be making all of you dress up for us! Severus rode the rollercoaster eight times. I felt sick just watching him. You guys and your broomsticks! The sign made me laugh, it's just so…_

_On a more cultural note, we've seen Cirque De Soleil, which was fantastic, and some remarkably well done Muggle Magic (or Illusions as they call them). Have George get you a copy of anything with Penn and Teller in it; I think you'll like it._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

The next card had two views on it. The first one was a city painted pink by the sunset, ocean in the foreground, mountains in the back. The second was a beautiful garden alive with colours, a Spanish style spire rising from the background.

_H&G_

_The costal adventure begins. We are starting in San Diego, by tonight we'll be in San Francisco. Start in the desert and end in a cool, foggy port city. It is somewhat staggering to think of the number of climates available here. By the time we finish this adventure we'll have also seen a temperate rain forest, a volcano, and a taste of the cool damp that says home!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

The Golden Gate Bridge spanning the bay, water hidden by fog, and the tops of the buildings of San Francisco gilded with sunlight graced the photo that showed up next.

_Thought this was pretty._

_H_

Friday morning. Ginny was feeding their youngest, and Harry was riding herd on the two older ones, who had just finished their breakfasts, and were doing all in their power to avoid being cleaned. He wasn't precisely sure if it was one or both of them that kept vanishing the damp rags he was trying to use to wipe them off. He finished and told them to go and play. Harry walked to the box that Hermione's post cards arrived in and checked for a new one.

It was there. This one featured images of the two of them in a convertible car driving on a very curvy road on a cliff overlooking the sea, Snape on a massage table, a blissful look on his face, and little wads of cotton wool between his toes, both of them sitting on a picnic blanket amid what looked like a vineyard, and Hermione in a nice dress nibbling on something in a tony restaurant.

_Hello Luvies_

_Ahh… the life of the childless international witch. It's gruelling! Today we were up at the crack of 10:00, and then over a light breakfast of fresh fruit and croissants, we planned the day. Drive to wine country, get massages, manicures, pedicures (in Snape's spiky handwriting: I did no such thing!) then onto a picnic lunch among the vines, heavenly wines, cheeses, and artisanal fresh bread. Followed by a nap (safely out of the sun) and then wine tasting. After a bit we'll stir ourselves enough to get dressed, and head out for dinner. It's hard, hard work I tell you! But somebody's got to do it!_

_Love, _

_Hermione_

Harry looked at the back of the postcard, and debated about letting Ginny read it. At least right now, while she was nursing the youngest, and the older two were in the midst of a screaming row.

He settled the oldest two down. After several moments of sibling squalling, he was able to get Ron playing with his toy broom and JS sucking his thumb and colouring. Ginny looked up from Molly and asked, "So, how's Hermione?"

"She's doing fine."

"Fine?"

He handed her the card. Her eyes took in the images, and then read the back. She sighed.

"I miss it."

"Me, too. But we have something they haven't figured out yet?"

"What?"

"When this one," he caressed Molly's cheek, "heads off for Hogwarts we'll be 34 and 33. Still very, very, young. When their youngest heads off, they'll be what, 40 and 60, 45 and 65? Time is on our side."

She smiled at him. "I still miss it."

"I know. Want to see if your mum or Fleur can take the kids tonight?"

"That sounds like a good idea."

Two days later a new postcard arrived. This one had two scenes, both of the same beach, but at different times. The first shot was from the middle of the day; a sand beach filled with people, all of whom were looking up at the sky filled with bright colourful kites. The second shot was at night, and the sky was now devoid of kites, but filled with Muggle fireworks.

_H&G,_

_We got to Lincoln City, Oregon in time for the Fourth of July parade and fireworks. Watching the Yanks all proud of their home is making us a bit homesick. We'll be driving to Seattle tomorrow, and then back home the next day._

_Love,_

_Hermione _

Three days later, instead of a postcard, Ginny heard a familiar voice at her floo.

"Can I come over?" Hermione asked.

"Of course!"

Hermione stepped through and was greeted with hugs from Ginny and Harry, kisses, and cries of "Aunt Hermione" from the children. She smiled brightly. "I've missed you guys."

"And we missed you," Harry said. "Now, tell us all about it."


	55. In Which We Return Home

Chapter 59: In Which We Return Home Again

Snape lay sprawled out on the bed. "I missed our bed." He stretched and sighed contentedly. Hermione rolled onto her stomach and faced him.

"So, what's next?"

"Back to real life I guess. I've got enough mail piled up in the kitchen to choke a hippogriff."

"Potions and more potions?"

"Probably, I haven't read it yet."

"Time to finish up moving my things over here and then put my house on the market."

"Before you do that, let me see Malfoy. He's been setting up a real estate empire of rental places catering to the travelling wizard. Your place is right outside of York?"

"Yes."

"He may be interested. And, if he buys, he pays in gold, so we don't have to pay the conversion fee to Gringotts."

"My mortgage is in pounds, but see him about it anyway. The sooner I'm done with it the better. When will you see him?"

"Next Monday."

"Sounds good. I should have most of my things out by then. I'll leave the large furniture. If he plans on renting the place, having it furnished would be a selling point."

"Probably."

There were many things Hermione loved about being a witch. Moving wasn't exactly on the top of the list, but only because she had to do it so infrequently. Today, however, as she looked at the one box she was able to fit her entire life into, she loved it beyond all measure.

It had taken three weeks and an inordinate amount of boxes to get her parents ready for Australia. But for this, what she sincerely hoped would be her last move; she had one box, and an assortment of miniscule items. Carefully folded, her towels and bed sheets were now the size of postage stamps. Her plates looked like they belonged in a doll house. (For that matter, her doll house looked like it belonged in a doll house.) Her CD and DVD collection took up no more space than the average deck of cards. In fact her only real fear was losing something important while it was in this tiny state. After all, it wasn't too hard to lose a book when it was smaller than a domino.

She gave her house one more look over, and then gathered the box in her arms, stepped into the floo, and said her own name.

When the spinning stopped she was at Snape's, _now our, _house.

* * *

"You want me to buy the mudblood's home?" Draco sneered at Snape.

Snape sneered back. "I could not physically care less if you bought the house or not, but since you are working on creating a collection of wizard friendly rental properties, and since you do not have one in the area of Ms. Granger's home, I thought it might be of interest to you. If it is not, we'll put it up for sale."

Draco thought about it. Outside of York would be convenient for much of his client base. "I'll see it, so long as she is not present."

"I don't think that will be hard to arrange; she has no desire to see you, either."

"Why not? I'm a damn sight prettier than you are."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Does this work for you Draco? These little jibes and snipes? I heard worse from that idiot Potter and his friends Black and Lupin long before you were born. We could be civil or coldly polite."

"You betrayed my parents and then were legally shackled to me, and you want to be polite?" Draco looked genuinely stunned.

"I did no such thing. I betrayed Voldemort, who, on the off chance you don't remember, was likely to kill your father and enslave your mother had he lived longer. He likely would have killed you as well. Bellatrix would have inherited your considerable wealth, and then turned it over to him. When he was in prison, during the rare moments he was lucid, your father bore me no ill will."

"How would you know?"

"I was in the cell across the hall from him! When he was in the dream world to which he retreated to after your mother's death, he'd ask me to protect you and her. When he was lucid, he wished I had killed your Aunt as well as taking down Voldemort."

"And I should believe a lying bastard like you, because?"

Snape felt immensely tired of angry young men. So damn many of them left over from the war. "You can believe me or not, as you see fit. But I've gotten to the point in my life where I'm no longer interested in this pettiness between us. It bores me."

Draco didn't respond, and held his features so smoothly Snape could not guess how he would respond. And, while he was sure he could use leglilmency on Draco, he was also sure Draco would see it as akin to assault. So Severus waited.

"Tomorrow at nine, can you show the house then?"

"Yes."

"Meet me here and we'll apparate there."

"Fine." Snape left, unsure as to what had just happened.

The next morning Draco eyed the house critically. It was in a fairly good location. The back garden had a high wall for discrete apparition and disapparition. The floo was functional, if somewhat inconvenient with its bedroom location.

"Comes with the furniture?"

"If you want it. We can remove it otherwise."

Draco personally preferred darker, heavier, more traditional furniture, but he was also smart enough to realize that his preferences were not those of everyone else. "Tell me about what else is here."

"It's currently unplottable. That can be changed. The house has charms on it to keep nosy neighbours at bay. It also has about a thousand galleons worth of Weasley's best defensive work on it as well. An unwanted visitor will not enter easily or stay long. And should you deign to rent to a Muggleborn, it's got all the mod cons one could desire."

Draco nodded, and looked at the stand for the entertainment system. He had a good idea of what it was, but wasn't entirely sure of what all went where.

"Telephone, cable, internet?"

Snape looked surprised. Draco smiled mirthlessly at him. "Some of my clients are asking for these things. Especially those that do business with the Muggles."

Snape answered, "I don't know about internet, but yes, it's got telephone and cable."

"It'll do. How much?"

"One hundred fifty-six thousand pounds."

"Pounds?"

"Yes, we're not taking gold on this one."

"I'll get back to you by this time tomorrow."

"Fine."

Draco turned to leave. Snape said, "I'm glad to see you being civil." Draco snorted and left.

The next morning an owl arrived. Its note read: _I'll take it. _A few minutes later another owl arrived, this one from Gringotts.

"This one says the funds have been transferred," Snape said to Hermione, who was offering Draco's owl a little bit of bacon on toast.

"All I have to do now is get the deed transferred."

"Yes, and if you have it stored in your vault the Goblins will take care of it for you, for a fee."

"I wouldn't expect them to do it for free." Hermione grabbed a parchment and pen and scribbled instructions for the Goblins.

"I guess it's done then. I live here now."

He slid out of his chair, and kissed her. "Welcome home."


	56. In Which Snape Prepares A Nest For His

Chapter 60: In Which Snape Prepares A Nest For His Lady

Snape didn't remember where he had come across the phrase the first time, but somewhere, somehow, he remembered reading, "Key to a happy marriage: Make sure she has her own desk, and keep your hands off it." This stuck Snape as a rather sensible plan, which he intended to do one better.

So, as Hermione spent the day chatting with the Potters about their trip, he decided to make sure she had at least one spot of her own in his... _their_ home.

Above stairs the cottage had four rooms. His, _our, _bedroom, bathroom, his library, and a room he was currently using as a storage space, but could easily be cleaned out, and turned into a library for Hermione.

Cleaning took a few moments. _Well, not really cleaning, relocation. Don't think about the attic. Should probably do a few spells to reinforce the beams though. _Several moments of concentration and wand work reassured him that his attic was unlikely to collapse anytime soon.

Now he sat in a small, square room. _An empty, small, square room. An undecorated, blank walled, bare floored, dirty, small square room._

_Windows first. _Scouring charms to the insides and outsides had them gleaming in a matter of seconds. Now, with the brighter light, he could see his earlier view of the room was a bit more charitable than warranted. _Light. She'll need light to read or work. And a desk to work at. A place to sit and read. A place for her books._

A few cleaning spells had the worst of the grime off the walls and floors. The room had gone from abandoned-horror-show-attic to just old, unloved, and dingy. _I can do the bookshelves myself. _His walls groaned, but complied, and soon he had an impressive set of bookshelves along the inside wall.

He eyed the bookshelves, and decided that they were up to the task ahead of them. The walls were also fairly easy; he could change the color on them without too much effort. Dingy off-white became bright fresh cream, and the shabby, peeling mouldings were now a rich blue. The floor was wood; at least he was fairly sure it had been. Using a very strong scouring charm he took the old, dried, dirty top layer off the floor, and found that yes, it was indeed wood, nice wood, underneath. Some polishing spells and a bit of varnish took care of the finish.

Which left him with the big job, furniture. Snape was a man of many talents. And for the most part transfiguration was one of them. However, part of transfiguration was starting with something of about the same mass as the thing you wanted to end up with. He didn't have a desk sized or chair sized pile of stuff he didn't need at the moment.

So there was no way around it, he had to go shopping. Preferably for something of a chair and desk-like nature that could be modified to Hermione's taste once she took over the room. As he was leaving the house, it occurred to him that perhaps an electric light or two might not be such a bad idea as well.

Snape did not go to Diagon Alley. He didn't see the need to buy lovingly hand-crafted magical furniture. Not when his plan was to get something of roughly the right shape and then transfigure it into what he thought she'd like. Then she could modify it to the shape she preferred best. Instead he went to a muggle furniture store. This particular store, with the rather odd name of IKEA, was very busy, and worked on the premise that you'd get your furniture, load it yourself, and then put it together once you took it home. This was perfect for him, because very few people would notice if his packages got a bit smaller or a lot lighter or if he just vanished once he collected them.

With that in mind, he found himself among what appeared to be thousands of people, all slowly milling from one furniture display to the next. He intellectually understood why muggles would take such a long time looking at everything and discussing it, but it was still frustrating to be caught behind a pack of them. Finally he worked his way to the desks, and quickly grabbed the first ticket for one of about the right size. He had almost left the area when he remembered that he needed a chair to go with the desk. Severus grabbed one more ticket. He then milled his way with the rest of the muggles to the lounge chairs, and likewise grabbed the first ticket for a correctly sized one he saw.

After finding his way to the lights, he decided to actually look at them. They were rather small and intricate, and if Hermione preferred electric, he didn't want to mess with them too much. Transfigured electrical equipment rarely worked once you got done with it. So after an hour with the lights, he had two that he thought she would like.

An hour later and he was lugging a hand cart, a pile of boxes, and his tickets toward an even longer line of people, all slowly shuffling though the payment process. Finally, after spending much more time standing in line then he had ever wanted to, he was done. He found himself outside, and very casually, very subtly, began to modify his purchases. By the time he was done he had one easily handheld box, and he began to walk off nonchalantly. Only one person, a child, noticed when the man with the box and the dark hair vanished off the sidewalk. She decided not to mention it to her mum. She'd already been spanked twice this week for 'telling tales.'

When he arrived home, he took the boxes up to the room and laid them on the floor. He then looked at the box the chair was in, focused intently on what he wanted it to look like, and began the transfiguration. He did it again with the desk: a few moments of concentration and it was in perfect working order. Which just left him with the lights.

He opened the boxes containing the lights and let out a sigh. They were in parts. Lots of parts. And, worse, the only directions he saw were pictograms. He looked at his watch. She should be back in an hour, and if he was lucky, he'd have them done by then. He looked at the pile of pieces in front of him. Make that one of them.

He settled himself on the floor, and began to look for the roughly rectangular piece of metal that would be screwed onto the long metal pole…

* * *

"Severus?" He heard Hermione's voice just as he placed the second light on the desk.

"I'm up here."

"What are you doing up there?" Hermione poked her head though the doorway.

He stood up from the desk and gestured to the room. "I wanted you to have a place of your own. You can change it to suit your tastes."

She was smiling broadly at him. "It's lovely. I'll get my books." She stared at the comfy, cushy, easy chair. She flopped down into it and curled into her favourite book reading position. "In a minute, I'll get the books in a minute."

He sat on the floor and rested his head on her knee. "You like it?"

"Yes, I really like it. I might lower the desk a bit, I'm not as tall as you are, but it looks good." She looked around some more. "I like the lamps." She kissed him, and he kissed back.


	57. In Which We Discuss Last Names

Chapter 61: In Which Last Names Are Discussed

Hermione had spent the day unpacking, making places for her things, and making some of his things theirs. Snape had spent the day working his way through the rather large backlog of potions related post that had accumulated since they had left for their American jaunt. But now it was night time. Dinner was over. They had both spent a pleasant hour reading on the couch, when Severus finished his book and asked.

"Want to watch some Dr. Who?"

Hermione looked at the book in her hand. She was at a dull bit. "Yes."

He flicked on the television and put a tape in the VCR, while she conjured some popcorn and a fuzzy blanket. They sat on the couch, his arm around her shoulders, a blanket over her legs, munching contentedly as the sounds of the Dr. Who theme music filled the house.

"Domestic bliss at the Granger-Snape house," Hermione said to him.

"Yes." He continued to munch. They watched the first bit of the show, but a question kept niggling at him. He quickly paused the show.

"Are you going to keep your name or take mine?"

"Granger-Snape house made you think of it?" Hermione asked. He nodded. Hermione thought for a long minute. "Hermione Snape…" She made a face. "How about you take my name?"

It was Snape's turn to think. "Severus Granger." He winced. "I don't think so."

"Granger-Snape?" Hermione asked.

He winced harder. "Granger-Snape sounds like some sort of exotic snake."

"It's not that bad. Think about it a bit. We both get to keep our own names and add each other's. Nothing lost, only gain."

"Granger-Snape. Granger-Snape. Still sounds like something that Aussie you watch would sneak up on while telling us how dangerous they are." Snape started speaking in the worst Australian accent Hermione had ever heard, "In dry areas like this you have to keep an eye peeled for the Granger-Snape, one of the most vicious snakes in all of Australia. Crikey! I see one!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, trying very hard to keep a straight face. "We could just keep our own names. But I do like the idea of some big symbolic gesture that says something new has happened. Especially since we're already having sex and living together."

"I suppose we have done a pretty good job of making sure the day before the wedding is just the same as the day after." They both had nothing to add after that, so he turned the show back on.

They quietly watched a bit more of Dr. Who. After about ten minutes Severus said, "The thing is, I'm very attached to my name. I am Severus Snape. I've never been anyone else, and I never wanted to be anyone else. Well, that's not precisely true, but at this point, it's who I am and who I want to be."

"I understand that. It's why I'm not exactly jumping up and down at the idea of Hermione Snape. It's not me. Granted, I haven't been a Granger as long as you've been a Snape, but I honestly can say that it's who I am and I have never wanted to be anyone else."

"Not even Hermione Weasley?" She gave him a mock glare and poked him.

"No, I'm serious."

"I don't think so. It probably would have shocked the rest of the Weasleys, and most likely would have given Ron palpitations, he was rather old fashioned about things like that, but, I really like my name. I don't mind adding another one, but I don't want to get rid of it all together."

They stared at each other, thinking of a way to deal with this.

Hermione realized she'd blithely accused Ron of old-fashionedness without having any clue as to Severus' opinions on the subject. "Does it bother you that I want to keep my own name?"

"Not too much. Especially since it's you keeping your name rather than rejecting mine."

"I still like both names. You could be Severus G. Snape, if the whole Granger-Snape thing makes you think too much of deadly Australian vipers." She paused, chewed a piece of popcorn, and then said, "Wait, what's your middle name?"

"That, my dear, is a secret of such immense darkness and evil that I shudder to even think it, let alone profane your fair ears by telling it."

"Oh my, that sounds like a job for George and Ginny. They can find anything, and neither of them have such innocent ears anymore."

"Luckily for me, everyone else who knew that secret is now long dead."

"Hmp." Severus turned Dr. Who back on, and they watched in peace. At the end of the episode Snape watched her for a long time. He was looking her over carefully, which puzzled Hermione to some degree, because she was used to his, 'Let's go have some sex' looks, and this wasn't one of them.

"Ginny could make us tattoos. Wrist tattoos. It's not a name change, but it would be a symbol of change, a very visible symbol. I prefer you as Hermione Granger, if the other option is Hermione Granger-Snape. And, unlike rings, I wouldn't have to worry about it interacting with my potions. They'd be visible most of the time, but you could keep your sleeve in place if you didn't want the students staring."

"You've obviously never seen me teach in a classroom. I spend a lot of time writing on the board. My sleeves are usually somewhere around mid-arm. But I like the idea. If we did wedding rings, I'd have to do something with my engagement ring, and I don't want to have to put it on a different finger, or find a way to work another ring into it. I like it there all by itself."

"So we'll be Snape and Granger?"

"I like that. We can call the kids Granger-Snape."

"Only if we're really mad at them." She smiled wryly at that.

"My mum will like it, too."

"Your mum?" He looked puzzled. He knew she had parents, but she hadn't mentioned them since that day they talked about money and politics. He was somewhat curious as to if they were fighting, or why he hadn't heard anything about them since, but not curious enough to pry.

"Yes, you should hear her go on and on about women who get married and lose themselves. According to her keeping your name is one of the great safeguards, along with your own money, your own job, and a way to get out. She's stopped harping at me about always having a bike or a car once I learned how to apparate."

"Not a lot of trust there," he said, trying to sound noncommittal.

"No. And it's a bit on the odd side, because it's not like she and my father have an awful marriage, or that my grandparents were miserable and are now divorced. From what I can see, I come from a long line of women who married good men, but my mum still doesn't seem to trust that it'll really last. Or maybe it's her way of keeping my dad in line. Perhaps it works so well because he knows she can leave at any time. But, it's not what I'd like us to have."

"I'd rather we didn't live together with the idea that either of us will head for the hills if the going gets rough."

"Speaking of my parents, you should probably meet them, the sooner the better."

"Yes." He sighed dramatically. "I can't really put it off too much longer. I suppose it's a good idea to meet one's prospective in-laws before you send the wedding invitations out."

"Probably." She was nodding.

"Next weekend?"

"I'll call my mum, but yes, that'll probably do it."


	58. In Which We Chat With Mum

Chapter 62: In Which We Chat With Mum

"Hello, Mum."

"Hello, Hermione. John, it's Hermione." She heard her father pick up the phone.

"Hello, Dad."

"Hello, Honey."

"So, what's going on? Have you come to your senses and decided to move here and get free from that horrible Ministry?"

"Oh, mum. No, I'm not moving to Oz. Quite the opposite really. I'm calling to say I got engaged, and I…."

"Oh Hermione! How could you?" Her mother's voice was on the verge of breaking. "How could you let yourself be railroaded by that barbaric law?" Her father's lack of voice was a stony silence.

"I wasn't railroaded. I'm really pleased to be marrying Severus."

"How can you be pleased to be marrying someone who only wants you to say in the country?"

"Mum…."

"Any man who had wanted you for you would have found you before the law passed. He wouldn't have waited until you were matched up."

Then her dad started. "Severus? Not that professor you hated?"

"I didn't hate him. I just thought…"

"He used to be your professor?" asked her mum.

"He taught potions didn't he?" added her dad.

"How old is he? You're not wasting yourself on some old git?" Her mom fired back.

"What kind of lecher goes after one of his students?" The horror of the idea began to creep into her dad's voice.

"STOP!" Hermione's voice cut across them. "Let me speak, and I'll answer your questions. But remember, I am happy to be engaged. This is a good thing for both of us. This is bloody well supposed to be one of the happiest times in my life, a time I never thought I'd get the chance to have, and the last thing I need is you two doing all you can to suck all the joy out of it in the name of trying to protect me." Sulky silence carried across the line. When her parents got going they didn't like to stop. She used to just sit there and take it, but sometime after Sirius' death she realized life was just too short.

"Yes, Severus was one of my professors. During my six years at Hogwarts, he taught Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. He then spent a year as Headmaster before retiring from Hogwarts to write a book and run his own potions consulting business. He was a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a winner of the Order of Merlin First Class. He is considered one of the foremost minds in Potions in Britain…"

"Then why is he still single?" Jean Granger cut in.

"Because, like me, he lost his first love in the war, and hadn't done anything about looking for a new one until forced to."

"You see, it is just this law, he doesn't really want you…"

"Mum, if you don't stay quiet and let me talk, I am saying goodbye." Severus walked in, caught those words and saw what looked like steam coming out of Hermione's ears. He walked to her, placed his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her head. He mouthed the word "Courage!" and then left the room.

She took the quiet on the line for acquiescence. "No, neither of us would have gone spouse hunting had the law not been passed. But we are genuinely suited to each other. He is forty-four. His birthday is in January."

"Why doesn't he want a woman his own age?"

Click. Hermione rang off the phone. She knew rationally that their questions made sense. They didn't know Severus, couldn't know him, and her mum didn't trust any man. It was just immensely frustrating that they could not feel her joy and share it with her. She took a deep breath, and let it out, and dialled again.

The machine picked up. _Real mature. _"Hello, me again…" They didn't pick up. "I find it frustrating that you can't see that I'm an adult, fully capable of picking out a man of my own, and doing a good job of it. I'd like you to meet him at some point before our wedding. Call me, my new number is…" She said a brief good-bye to the machine and found Snape. He was sitting in his office, reading.

"Remember what I said about my parent's not having anything against you?"

He looked up and cocked an eyebrow. "Let's just say that was wildly optimistic. In fact, it looks like your view of how they'd see you might have been optimistic as well."

"That bad?" Severus felt appalled it could have gone that badly.

"Well, I'm no longer talking to them, and I've not yet managed to secure an invite to Sunday tea." She gave him a brittle smile.

"Me personally?"

"No, any male wizard I met through this law would have made my mum furious. As she said, 'Any man who wanted you would have gone for you before the law was made'."

"How could I have known I wanted you before I had you?"

"Rationality and my mum are not on speaking terms when it comes to this topic."

"What happens now?"

"We wait."

"What about the bride price?"

"Fuck!" Hermione buried her head in her hands. "I really didn't want to just have to go visit the Magistrate. I wanted us to be able to bind ourselves."

Snape wrapped his arms around her. "That was the ceremony I was hoping for too. But if need be, we'll visit the Magistrate, send in the paperwork, and then have a binding for us. No one is stopping us from getting the wedding we want."

The phone rang again. "Would you like me to get it?" Severus asked.

"I haven't told them we're already living together."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, that's not. My mum might actually like that, but it'd be a shock, and I want to keep this as calm as possible." She went downstairs and picked up the phone.

"Hello Mum." Her father cleared his throat. "Hello Dad, ready to talk?"

"We're not the ones who hung up," Jean Granger said.

"Let me say it this way: are you ready to listen?"

"You've fallen madly in love with some arsehole who's only using you, and it's our job to shut up and smile about it. Yes, we know. We're smiling madly over here, bubbling with joy! Our only daughter's prostituting herself. We couldn't be happier." Her mother's voice no longer had any tinge of sorrow, just anger.

Once more Hermione took a very deep breath. She held it for ten seconds. Then let it out slowly. While doing so, Snape walked by and placed a headache potion in front of her. She drank it quickly. "There is no arsehole. There is no madly in love. There is no prostitution. I've found a man I want to make a life with. We're happy and compatible, and more than that we are immensely rational people who have weighed our options and decided this is the best course of action. You do not have to approve. It would be nice if you did, but it does not matter, come hell or high water I am marrying this man."

"Good for you!" Now there were smiles in Jean Granger's voice.

"This was a test?" Hermione's voice squeaked. "Mum, what the bleeding fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. I just didn't want you making a mistake, and any man you didn't feel that strongly about is a mistake. Now, when can we meet him?"

Hermione let out a yell of frustration and Snape came running. "What?"

"All lies," she said. He looked confused. She waved her hand. "Later."

"Not all lies, we do have serious reservations about this man, but we're glad to see how much you like him. How about you bring him for tea on Sunday?"

"Yes, mum, that would be lovely."


	59. In Which The Men Confer

Chapter 63: In Which The Men Confer

Arthur Weasley almost fell out of his chair when he heard the voice at his floo.

"Arthur? May I come over? I need some help," Severus asked him.

He shook his head, blinked, and responded, "Certainly, Severus." A moment later, Severus was sitting in the kitchen at the Burrow. "What can I do for you?"

Severus took a deep breath. "This is somewhat embarrassing, but with four married sons, I'm guessing you've done this before. I need to know about Bride Prices: how it works, what I'm supposed to do, and if you have any insight into what to do in regards to the Grangers specifically. Percy's pamphlet tells me I need to get them to sign something to show they've received it, but it doesn't help me to figure out what is an appropriate Bride Price."

"Oh. Thorny issue that. The Grangers, I mean. We'll probably need to get Harry over here for that. Bride Prices are pretty easy. Well, let's start at the beginning. You understand the basic concept?"

Severus nodded. "Give her parents money."

"Once upon a time, yes. Not so much now. Way back when the custom started, most girls worked for their family, and then when they married, they started up a new business of some sort with their husband or joined his family's business. The point of the Bride Price then was to make sure you didn't impoverish her parents by taking her skills away. Nothing like sticking the in-laws in the poor house to ensure smooth family relations.

"Now, technically at that point this was just a matter of custom and courtesy. Then the landed families wanted a way to make sure they had complete control over who their offspring married. Soon it became a matter of law. But enough of the unlanded families were able to make sure that the Bride Price could not stop two people from being married. That's why any binding muggle ceremony is acceptable as well. It protects our children from their parents.

"So that's the history lesson. These days it's usually some sort of gift that tells her parents your intentions are good and that you are looking forward to joining her family to yours. A pile of Galleons is considered in bad taste unless she is actually part of a family run business and you are going to take her away from that. Unless Hermione became the star dentist of her parent's practice when I wasn't looking, you won't be in that situation."

Severus nodded. "Which still leaves the question: what does one give the Grangers?"

"I don't know. Let's get Harry over here, he knows them better than I do, and we'll brainstorm."

Arthur flooed Harry, and got him up to speed.

Harry joined the men at the table, and Arthur poured drinks. Harry took a sip of his and said, "I don't envy you that. The Grangers…." he put his hand to his forehead, rubbed his temples for a moment, and then sighed. "Look, they aren't bad people. But, they aren't us. Hermione's got good reasons for not spending all that much time with them. They have a way of seeing the world, and for all I know it works for muggles, but it doesn't really work for us. But I'm getting off topic."

"Not really, it's nice to know what kind of dragons to expect when one walks into a cave," Severus added.

Harry nodded. Having known his in-laws since he was eleven he hadn't had the experience Snape was getting ready for, but he could imagine it. "Still, that doesn't help you with a Bride Price. Money to one of their charities might work. But they've got new ones so often it's hard to pick a good one, and they still might consider it an attempt to buy Hermione. And you do not want to make them think you are trying to buy Hermione. Which reminds me, don't ever call Hermione's mum Mrs Granger. Call her Jean or Dr Granger. She gets really annoyed if you call her Mrs Granger." Harry remembered what he had considered a polite address, but it had resulted in a fifteen minute lecture about women not being their husband's property, even if they did choose to take his name.

Snape nodded and sipped his drink. "She called them yesterday to tell them we were engaged, and her parents were less than thrilled. And they decided to try and test her by acting even less happy then they were. 'Sodding old git who's using you to stay in the country' was the nicest thing her mum had to say. I understand not being happy about this. I'm no one's first choice for a son-in-law. What I don't understand is pretending it's worse than it is to try and make Hermione drop me to keep them happy."

"Ouch." Harry winced. Arthur nodded in sympathy.

"They'll come around eventually. Molly's mum had a fit when we told her we had gotten engaged."

"Really?" Harry asked. Snape raised an eyebrow, somewhat curious as well.

"I'm not saying she had a bad reason for opposing the match at first. We had been out of school for two weeks. My job at the Ministry paid close to nothing. The first Vold War had started and her sons were fighting. She was afraid for them. Afraid I'd become a member of the Order and leave her daughter a teenage widow. Worse, a teenage widow with a baby to support." Arthur drank his butter beer. Both of the other men waited for him to continue the story.

"But she came around, shortly after Bill was born. By that point she was sure I wasn't going to go off and join the Order and get killed. Lucky for me, Molly's dad accepted my gift, and let us marry because otherwise we would have ended up having to wait until we were old enough by muggle standards. Which would have been about two months later than either of us would have liked."

Harry's eyebrows shot up.

Arthur glared kindly at Harry. "You married my daughter three weeks after she turned seventeen, you think I don't know why?"

Harry held his hands up, looking innocent. "We were married almost two years before Ron was born."

"If what Molly tells me is true, that was mostly a matter of luck."

Harry blushed. Snape chuckled. "So a Bride Price for my not-pregnant now or likely to be anytime soon bride?"

"Really?" Harry interjected. "You do remember the second bit of the law, right?"

"We'll have them if and when we're ready, and not a minute sooner. If that means time abroad, so be it. Now, bride prices, or anything else you can think of that may help ensure a peaceful first meeting of my future in-laws."

"They like cats," Harry said. "Crookshanks still lives with them, and I think they've got two other ones. So, maybe a kitten?"

Snape tried to imagine walking into the home of people he had never met before, bearing a kitten. He sighed. "Probably not. Do I look like the kind of person who gives away kittens?"

Harry started to laugh. When he could speak, he said, "Well, more now than you did back in school. I had the image of you from those days walking into the Granger's house with a little white Persian in your hands."

Arthur grinned. "Not kittens. I gave Molly's parents a portrait of her and her brothers. Her dad really liked it. Her mum did too, eventually. Especially after Fabian and Gideon were killed. It was the last picture of the three of them together. Her parents might go for something like that. Who knows how long it's been since they last got a picture of Hermione?"

"Last year," Harry answered. "They get a new shot of the three of them each year when she heads down to visit them."

"Not a portrait, then." Snape had been warming to that idea. Some of the shots from their vacation would have worked rather well. "What did you do?"

Harry pointed to the back yard. "Those rose bushes. I charmed them so they ward off Garden Gnomes. When Ginny married me, Molly lost the last of her Garden De-Gnomers. It seemed fitting."

"Most of my boys did plants of some sort as well. Nice symbolism of something new and alive. Do the Grangers have a garden?" Arthur asked.

"They do," Harry answered and began to smile. "They are avid gardeners, constantly trying to make little bits of England grow in Australia. All the home plans that like misty and cool just don't like Oz. It's too bright and hot and dry. That's something you could do, something they might like, something very British that just doesn't like it where they are."

Snape was smiling as well. "I have it on very good authority I've got some serious potential for green fingers. And I know for a fact that I make a very good fertilizer."

Arthur's eyes widened. Harry laughed and said, "I suppose that's one way of putting it." Snape deftly punched Harry on the arm while drinking his butterbeer. Not a drop spilled.

"So, besides a love of cats, and not calling her Mrs Granger, what else should I know?"

"Robert's very quiet. He just about fades into the background when Jean's around. But don't think that means she's leading him around. He's as involved and passionate about their ideas; he's just quieter," Arthur added.

"Comments about how smart Hermione is always go over well. Comments about how pretty she is do not. They like to talk about politics, and if you take the time to do some reading before you go, they'll appreciate that. They like it even better if you agree intelligently with them," Harry said.

"Who doesn't? However, I have no desire whatsoever to bone up on muggle politics, let alone Australian muggle politics."

"I don't blame you," Arthur said. "Especially since there are so many more interesting muggle things to study. Plugs, motorcycles, airplanes, computers, I've been looking into computers lately…" Arthur noticed both of the men looking oddly at him, and let the sentence trail off.

"Stay away from the war. They don't think it was a good idea. Well, maybe for you they would. You were an adult for Vold War II. They were vehemently against us being involved in it. Hermione had to wipe their memories and move them to Australia to be able to go with us for the Horcrux hunt." Harry took a drink of his butterbeer and shook his head.

"It's not exactly like Molly and I were all that thrilled about you three going off on the Horcrux hunt, either."

"Yeah, but you at least understood why it was important. Hermione's parents still think we should have sat it out and let the adults handle it."

"We understood why you did it the way you did, but Molly will never forgive Dumbledore and his 'only you kids could know' attitude. Trust me, had we had any choice in the matter we would have done it for you. No parent wants their child in danger." All three men were quiet. For the first time Snape realized how much the Weasleys, Molly especially, has lost over the course of the war.

Then Harry said, his voice purposely lighter than necessary, "Speaking of which, did I tell you Ron took his toy broom over the roof of the house, tried to do a roll, and almost fell off?"

"That must have been a sight." Arthur grinned at the image of his grandson flying over number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Yes, my heart started beating again about two hours later. Ginny and I are currently the meanest parents in the world for taking the broom away."

"Yes, Molly and I also spent quite a while as the meanest parents in the world. Oh, there's another thing about the Grangers, Severus, they never said anything outright, but I always got the sense they didn't approve of Molly staying home with the kids. If you expect Hermione to do that, it's probably not a good idea to tell her parents about it."

Severus took another drink. Back to kids again. He and Hermione would need to get talking about that. They'd have to have some sort of answers for Hermione's parents. He was dwelling on that when he heard Harry's voice.

"So, what are you thinking of for your kids?" Harry asked.

"Wet nurse, governess, and boarding school followed by Durmstrang." Both of the others looked dumbfounded. "Calm down, I'm taking the piss. I have no idea. I'm not really sure we're having them anytime soon. We don't have a wedding date yet; kids are a long way off."

"No date?" Harry asked.

"She wants to do Halloween. I've been trying to shy her away from it without outright stating why. She'll feel silly when she remembers, but it's taking her long enough. Meanwhile I'm trying to get her to warm up to early October."

"I may be able to help with Halloween. She's helping with the kids tomorrow. I'll get Ginny to work on her."

"Thanks." The three of them sat quietly drinking. Finally Severus decided to ask about something he had heard about on the wireless last night, "So what's this I hear about Puddlemere United signing Victor Krum? I know he hasn't been on top form since the accident last year, but, Puddlemere United?" They spent the next hour or so talking Quiddich, drinking, and enjoying each other's company.


	60. In Which We Return To Real Life

Chapter 64: In Which We Return To Normal Life

"And so on Sunday, we're going to visit my parents." Hermione was doing what she usually did during the week over summer hols, helping her sisters-in-law with their kids.

"Good luck on that," Ginny said to Hermione.

"I remember those days," Deirdre said. The three women were sitting on a long bench in the back garden of George, Angelina, and Deirdre's house. Small children were running about, mostly playing happily, but Ginny kept a wary eye on Ron and Victoire, who would probably be fighting over the swing soon. It was Friday, which meant that Fleur and Angelina had the day off. It is a well known, if somewhat paradoxical, fact that nine children and three women is an easier combo than one woman with two children.

Hermione scanned the back yard, looking for potential problems, while Deirdre said, "My parents had a bit of a hard time, but that was mostly with the fact that I married into a family of wizards. If you lot had been the druids the next grove over, they would have been fine. But once they got to know George and Angelina, they came around. You saw them at the wedding; by the time they actually saw our ceremony, they were pretty happy."

"So, speaking of wedding ceremonies, do you and Snape have a date yet?" Ginny asked, a twinkle eerily reminiscent of Dumbledore in her eye.

"I keep trying to get him to commit to Halloween, but he's pretty resistant."

Ginny just stared at her for a moment. Hermione felt like she was missing something. Something big. Finally Ginny said, "Resistant, huh?"

"Yes. I'm missing something aren't I?"

"Lily was killed on Halloween."

"Oh God! I had forgotten. No wonder he doesn't want a Halloween wedding. Bugger, I wish he had said something."

"Like what, 'Sorry Hermione, too many bad memories of my first love being killed on Halloween, how about we do a different night?'"

"Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!" Hermione said. JS, who had wandered over to his mum while Hermione wasn't paying attention began to mimic her. Ginny gave Hermione a look, and Deirdre began to laugh.

"That's a grown-up word JS. You don't need to be saying it," Deirdre said. He gave his mum a hug, grabbed a drink of his juice, and went back to playing.

Ginny gave Hermione a pointed look. "You get to explain to Fleur why her kids have a new favourite word tonight."

"Yes Ma'am. God, how could I forget something like that?"

"Well, it's not like it's a big deal for Harry. He doesn't remember it. I mean he knows what happened on that date, but he doesn't feel it any more than any other day. It's probably a bigger deal for Severus than it is for Harry," Ginny said.

"Well, scratch a Halloween wedding. Early October some time then. With any luck we'll be able to bind ourselves like you did."

"Best thing we ever did," Deirdre said. "Can you imagine the three of us trying to find a binder that would have kept all three families happy?" Deirdre shook her head. "The magic isn't too tricky. It's an Unbreakable Vow, just modified."

"How unbreakable is it?" Hermione had been wondering about that for some time.

"Not very. George is still alive isn't he? The magic knows that it's about intent and trying. You won't keel over if you promise patience and then lose it one day because your man, who has promised on at least five separate occasions to put his socks in the hamper, has once more left them in the middle of the bedroom floor like some sort of prize." Deirdre paused, shook her head, muttered something Hermione couldn't make out, and then continued speaking. "I'm not even sure what would happen if you really broke one of the vows. I mean went out and purposely broke one. It would probably jump up and bite you then, but I'm not really sure. Of course, that could explain the reason why Dragon Pox has a tendency to strike men in the prime of their life and kill them off swiftly. Or not. I don't think too many of us are really interested in actually going out and testing the magic of the vows."

"How did you come up with your vows?" Hermione asked both women.

"We were so young; we just went with what the Reverend said. I don't think the idea of vows actually meant anything to us at the time. It was more about being alive, and having some joy after that last year of the war, and living together, and not having to sneak about to have sex," Ginny answered. "Vows were kind of moot. You were at our wedding, you remember, it was almost like two kids playing at getting married."

"Your wedding was very sweet. And after that year, and the funerals, and Black June, we all needed something happy. Most of all, your mum," Hermione said.

"I think that's why George suggested it. He knew we were going to do it eventually, but he suggested we do it before seventh year of Hogwarts rather than after."

"I didn't know George was the one who suggested you get married so soon." Deirdre looked amused.

"Fred had just died, and he was going through a rough patch. We all were, but it hit him harder than the rest of us. It would wouldn't it? And one night we, well, the four of us, Harry, Hermione, George and I, were over at the Burrow, rather pissed, having something like an informal wake for Fred and Ron, and then George said, 'We need a party. A real burn the house down, let it all out, everyone has blackmail material for years, party! Harry, get off your arse and marry my sister! Give us all an excuse to laugh again.'" Ginny told her sister-in-law.

"Ron, stop hitting Victoire!" she called out a second later.

"And that was it?" Deirdre asked.

"That was it. I turned seventeen in August, and we got married the Saturday before leaving for seventh year of Hogwarts. I don't think they usually allow married students, but being the Boy-Who-Lived and his bride had some perks."

"How about you three? How did you come up with your vows?" Hermione asked Deirdre.

"A bottle or three of wine, a great big bed, and a fairly serious conversation about how badly we were willing to shock our families. Just because the Ministry legalized polygamy didn't mean that our six parents were going to be thrilled by the idea. Especially my family, since, as druids, they've never believed the Ministry had any legal rights over us in the first place. But that's a war we've been losing for the last thousand years. Anyway, we knew we'd need something that would keep all three sets of families happy, something that would make them understand exactly how serious all three of us were about being married to each other. Something to show them that this was the start of a new family, not just one big, randy sex romp.

"George and Angelina had already done the traditional 'for better or worse' vows, and we knew that those ideas are important. I mean, you can work on the words, but love, honour, cherish, kindness, patience, and fidelity really does cover all the hoops. And in the tradition I grew up in a marriage is forever. This life and the next and the one after that, so we knew we needed to incorporate that. If anything was going to let my family know we meant business, that was it. Mostly though, it was about the symbols. That's really the point of the ceremony. We married by wand and by knot to make sure everyone was happy, and everyone had their idea of a 'wedding' fulfilled."

"How are you doing on your vows?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"We haven't talked about it yet. Haven't talked much about the wedding at all. We know it's going to happen, soon, and we want to bind ourselves, but beyond that..." Hermione gestured with her hands to show nothing had happened.

"Well, it's not going to happen on its own," Deirdre said. "Tonight you need to grab your Snape, get some paper, and talk about what it means to be married. Otherwise you'll end up with something neither of you really wants."

"Perish the thought!" At which point Aiden Weasley awoke from his nap and began fussing. Deirdre picked him up and began to coo at him. The little red haired boy began to coo back at his mum.

"God, they're cute at this age," Hermione said.

Deirdre snuggled her son, "Yes, they are. As long as you forget the whole not sleeping through the night thing."

"Or the fifty nappies a day," Ginny added.

"And they eat every four hours during the day." Deirdre was sharing the battle-tested look of the veteran mum with Ginny. Aiden smiled up at her, his lone bottom tooth making an appearance. His brother Fred came running over, demanding that he got just as much attention as his little brother.

"Any thought about kids?" Ginny asked her.

"Besides swinging between loving the idea and wanting to run away in horror? We talked a little about it, he's willing to skip town with me if we want to put it off, or toss the contraceptive potions aside if I'm not."

"You can't ask for much more than that," Deirdre said.

"No, I suppose not. I could ask to make my own mind up. But that's not exactly something he can do for me."

Ginny looked down at her watch. "Come on, it's time to round most of these kids up and put them down for their afternoon nap."


	61. In Which They Begin Wedding Planning

Chapter 65: In Which We Begin Planning A Wedding

Severus walked into his kitchen after a long day in the lab and found the smell of dinner, warm and welcoming, to greet him. On top of that, a cuddlesome woman was in his arms, kissing him. _I could get used to this._

When Hermione pulled away from him she went back to dinner, some sort of stir fry. "So, how did today's research go?"

"Quite well. If you hand me a drink, I'll start to think I've fallen into a fifties television comedy."

"Don't get too used to it. I was just feeling rather domestic today. I helped Ginny and Deirdre with the kids, and felt like cooking when I got back here."

"You're welcome to be domestic whenever you choose. What's on the menu?"

"Beef and broccoli, rice, and some egg rolls."

"Yum. Will it be ready soon?"

"Ten-twelve minutes."

"I'll go pop in the shower and be down in eight."

"Good, you're a little stinky." She made a face at him. He winked back at her.

Hermione made finishing touches to the meal and set the table. The night was warm, not too humid, so she decided they'd eat in the garden. _Good dinner, a nice bottle of wine, and now all I've got to do is get us talking about the wedding. _She cast the spell that sent the tableware outside. _Why is this so hard? Everyone else you know managed to come up with a wedding and vows. Everyone else I knew didn't have to ask herself if she loved her fiancé._

She gently lowered the egg rolls into hot oil. _Well, that's the crux of it. Do you love him? Does he love you? And is either one of us willing to say anything about it? _She used a spell to hold the eggrolls under the surface of the oil, thankful for the chance to collect her thoughts. _It's easier if we don't say anything. It's easier if we just stay good friends who live together and enjoy the same things and like to shag. _She placed the rolls onto a draining rack. _Well, you can't avoid it forever. You need vows, and love's usually at the top of the list._

She stood in what was now their kitchen, indecision wrought on her face. She gathered the food and put it on serving plates. That done, she ran out of things to do to keep her mind from moving to the next logical thought. _So, have I fallen in love with him?_

"Something bothering you?" A damp, tousled, shower-fresh Snape walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"No, yes, sort of… many thoughts… some questions… not too many answers."

"Sounds ominous. Shall we eat and talk it over?"

"Let's eat…" She handed him the serving platter with the rice and beef on it. "I need to think a bit more before I go into talking about it."

"More ominous, yet." He kept his voice light, but she could see him wondering how bad this mystery subject that had her upset might be.

"It's nothing bad… I just need some time."

"I'll press no more. Want to hear about my latest forays into the world of professional potioneering?"

"Only if you don't mind that I'm only half listening."

"I can live with that."

They walked out to the porch and served the food. While Hermione ate, thoughts raced through her mind. _Do you love him? You know, for most people this isn't a hard question. It's either YES or no. It's not a hard question. You know the answer, you're just afraid to say it, even in your own mind. _

_If I say it, it becomes real. And if it becomes real, I can lose it. And if I lose it, will I ever find myself again? Will there even be a me left?_

She watched Severus eating, talking about his latest project. _This is a good man. He's talking about a subject you'd find fascinating if you were paying attention. He's brave, and smart, and if not exactly handsome, he's in good shape. This is a man who cares about you. This is a man who doesn't press when you ask him to back off, and will go to the wall for you if you need him to. This is a man who has voluntarily started a relationship with a group of people he disliked because they are your family. Hell, he, Harry, and Arthur were hanging out and talking Quiddich the day before yesterday. He's let you into his home and his history. This is a man who deserves to be loved._

_Does he love you? Well, if he doesn't he bloody well should! _She smiled mentally at that cocky response. _Seriously, does he love you? Yes, I think he does. _A thrill shot up her back at the idea._ Can he say it to you? Only one way to find out… _Hermione began to listen to what Snape was saying, and let him finish his tale of potions woe. Apparently skunk weed is a valuable ingredient in blindness cures, but while trying to do something about the smell, he had caused his cauldron of bubbling skunk weed juice to explode upon him.

"…which is why after two scouring spells cast upon myself I was still rather stinky when I came in the house."

"Ahhh… well, who knew that skunk weed, arnica, and eye wort would do that when mixed with vanilla seeds?"

"I do now. I can cross vanilla off the list of potential ways to make the stuff smell better. So, did you finally make up your mind about what you were thinking on?"

"Yes. You noticed when I started paying attention?"

"It was hard to miss, especially for someone who spent twenty years watching for things like that."

"I was thinking it might be a good idea to have a wedding plan already in mind before we see my parents."

Snape looked surprised. "So much angst over wedding plans?"

"Vows, over wedding vows."

She saw he didn't get it at first, and then a familiar look of caution spread over his face.

"Oh, I see."

"Yes, I can't see a way to get married without some sort of vows, and I was working through what to say to you about them."

"Ah. We don't need them right this second do we?" She could see that he needed the time to do the same mental calculus she had just finished. She didn't push him.

"I suppose not. A date might be a good start though. How about October 10th? It's the second Saturday in October."

"What about Halloween?"

She smiled kindly, feeling a little foolish about forgetting the date. "I'm sorry Severus. I just didn't remember. I felt like an absolute idiot when Ginny pointed out why you might not be hot on a Halloween wedding."

"I didn't want to make you feel foolish, but I'm not too much of a Halloween person anymore."

"No, you wouldn't be. And now that I remember, I don't expect you to be. Does the tenth suit?"

"It's fine for me. What about your teaching schedule?"

"This year I don't have weekend rounds. I've still got Monday and now Tuesday and Thursday nights as well."

"What about a honeymoon?"

"Do you want to go on one?"

"I asked you first." He smiled at her.

"I was thinking we just got home from a honeymoon. And, the only way I can see us fitting in time for another one is to get married before school starts, but I want to have as much time as possible before we've got to make up our minds about having kids, which means an October wedding… So, I'll go with no on a honeymoon, unless you really want to do one, in which case we need a new wedding date."

"I'm fine with no honeymoon or doing something over winter hols."

"We've got the Weasley-DeLacour wedding in France this December; maybe from there we can find something."

"I like France."

"Then I'll put you in charge of planning the trip. That's a traditional groom's duty. Plan the honeymoon."

"So, October 10, 2004 we get married. Any ideas on where or how?"

"Where? No. Every wedding I've been to has been a home one, but I don't see how to do that here without getting your garden trampled. How? I was talking with the girls and we tossed about some ideas as to how."

Snape made a 'tell me more' gesture with his hand. "Such as?"

"When George and Deirdre and Angelina got married they bound themselves, and they used a modified version of the Unbreakable Vow. Then they also had everyone from their families tie their hands together to symbolize how they had become one huge family. I liked that quite a bit. Granted with all the family members that took quite a while, and untying them took even longer, but maybe if just Ginny tied us…"

"Ginny? Not your parents?"

"I love my parents, but the Weasleys are my family. Whatever ceremony we do, Harry'll be standing next to me. 'Man of Honour', 'Best Man', 'Holder of Flowers and Warmer of Cold Feet', whatever you want to call him. So, Ginny, as the one who kind of MC's and welcomes us into their family, would be my choice."

"That works. So, I suppose I'll need some sort of 'Best Man'?"

"Not if you don't want, but it is traditional."

"It might not be so much a matter of want as a matter of will anyone stand with me? You've claimed my two first picks at this point."

"Oh…" Hermione looked embarrassed.

Snape continued on, looking thoughtful. "Arthur might be a good choice. He's been helpful so far, and he's been married for a long time. He's closer to my age than the rest of you… And I probably won't have to worry about waking up from my stag party with six floozies, a hangover, and no memory of where I am or how I got there."

"Sounds like the stag parties you've been to were rather… exciting."

"I've only been to two, but I hosted Malfoy's, and yes, it was rather…" He smiled at her. "Exciting."

"Do I want to know anything more than that?"

"Probably not." He grinned evilly.

"Well, every one of the Weasley men have showed up for their weddings on time and sober, but how much that has to do with the kind of parties the night before, or the fact that George brews the world's best Sober Up and Anti-Hangover cures is a whole other story. I know Harry's party was rather sedate, but I think that had quite a bit more to do with the fact that I hosted it, and I actually followed Ginny's instructions regarding what level of good time the boys were allowed to have."

"Which is why women should not host stag parties."

"At least why women, who are very good friends with the bride, should not host stag parties."

"So, your stag party aside, do you like the idea of being formally added to the Weasley family?"

"Yes." He paused and thought about what he said for a moment. "You do realize that Salazar Slytherin, Voldemort, the entire Prince Family, both Malfoys, Sirius Black, and the Lupins all just rolled over in their graves?"

"Seismometers all over Britain have picked up on it. It'll be all over the news tomorrow."

They chuckled quietly, and Hermione thought of one other person who would be spinning in his grave. She saw him very clearly in her mind, the way he was before the Horcrux hunt, the way he was at another wedding, long ago. She heard his voice in her mind, _"It's all right, Hermione. You deserve this." _She shook her head. _I'm getting batty if I'm hallucinating a fake Ron, let alone a Ron who would be fine with this. _She focused once again on Snape.

"When I got my gown for the Graduation Ball, the Patils made me an offer. Well, really it's an offer for you. They'd like to make your wedding suit."

"Why?" Snape looked genuinely puzzled. He couldn't imagine that any of his previous students would like to see him again.

Hermione decided to be diplomatic. _They think you'll make a mess of it if you dress yourself, _wasn't a kind thought. "They do very good work, and they want a chance to make sure that you look as good as possible for our wedding."

"Aren't they dressmakers?" Snape was still trying to figure the angles on this. Were they going to try and humiliate him?

"Yes, but I can't imagine they'd ask me to ask you if they didn't know how to put together a suit. Did you have somewhere else in mind?"

"No, but… I'm not sure I want to be in the hands of any of my former students. I don't recall any specific problems with the Patil girls, but I wouldn't put some sort of revenge scheme past them."

"Oh, Severus." She leaned close and stoked his face. "It's nothing like that. They're my friends. They're Ginny's friends. Even if they hated you, they wouldn't threaten to mess up my wedding. Unless you just want to invite family, they'll be at the ceremony. And they certainly don't want their business to look bad by making you look bad."

He kissed her palm. "You want to invite more than just family?"

"I wanted to invite my friends as well. Buffy, Spike, Willow, Xander, any dates they might want to bring, Anya, Giles, Padma, Parvati, their husbands, Neville, Luna, and Daphne. I'm really not that close with the rest of my co-workers. The rest of my friends are part of the extended Weasley clan. How about you? Anyone you want to invite?"

He arched an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, you could have potions associates or someone I don't know about."

"I could, but I don't."

"Any family members left?"

"A few cousins who wouldn't know me if I bumped into them on the street. I don't think I'd know them either."

"I'll take that as a 'no' then?"

"No one for me."

Hermione summoned a pad of paper and a pen and began to write. "Okay, we're inviting family and some friends, all in all, probably fiftyish people. I'd rather not invite the kids, though. I'd be nice to have something with just the grown-ups. Let everyone have a night off…"

She doodled on the paper next to her first set of notes. "How about colours, I was thinking a very soft cream and hunter green."

"Hermione, my dear, no man in the history of the world has ever cared about what colours, flowers, centrepieces, or other frills were at his wedding."

Hermione looked horrified, then smug. "Harry helped Ginny pick her flowers."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Harry went with Ginny to a florist and helped her select flowers?"

"No, they went out into the fields behind the Burrow and picked lots of wildflowers."

"Was anyone else present?"

"No."

Now it was Snape's turn to look smug. He felt certain that if Harry and Ginny were frolicking about in an empty field right before their wedding, picking flowers was the last thing on Harry's mind. Hermione didn't get it for a moment. Then she did and she gave him a playful slap on the arm.

"I rest my case," Snape said.

"Hmp… Well, what do you want to be involved in regarding wedding planning?" Hermione asked, a cute little pout on her lips.

Snape thought about it while chewing a piece of beef. "Food, music, location, and the ceremony: that's pretty much it."

"How about the budget?"

"I meant it, do whatever you like. We've got the funds to cover it. Consider it the groom's gift to his bride."

"Really?" Her smile had a surprisingly Slytherin look to it.

"Really." He sounded a whole lot less sure than he had a moment before.

"What are you doing on Monday?"

"More potions, why?"

"I think I might be able to get us a chance to see somewhere that may work as a location."

"I thought you didn't have any ideas."

"Now I do."

They continued to eat. Hermione took the last egg roll while Snape snagged the last bit of the beef.

"I was thinking about music," Snape said. Hermione gestured for him to continue while chewing. "Neither of us really likes wizarding music, and we'd have to obliviate any muggle band that played for us, so how about we get a CD changer that can hold a lot of CDs and just put it on shuffle."

"That sounds good, or maybe we can do one better. While you were drooling on Xander's satellite radio, Spike was telling me about something that might be better: an iPod."

"iPod?"

"It's a tiny little thing that stores huge amounts of music downloaded from a computer, usually it works with earphones, but you can also attach it to speakers and then everyone can listen to it."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

"We'd need to get a computer."

"Not necessarily, I think Spike and Buffy might be willing to let us use theirs."

"Even better." Snape grinned. He and Spike had talked quite a bit about music, and he'd be more than willing to let Spike choose the playlist. He finished his last bite of food. "I suppose a huge buffet of sushi may not go over all that well with our guests?"

"I don't think Molly is a huge fan, but the rest would eat it to be polite. Of course, we could do the sushi during the cocktail hour as nibbles, and then do somewhat more common British food for the main course."

"Who were you planning on catering this? We can't do a muggle caterer for the same reason that a muggle band would be a bad idea."

"I was hoping to call in Kreacher and Winky and some of their friends and see if I can get them to do it."

Snape's eyebrows shot up into his hair line. "The President of S.P.E.W. wants to use house elves?"

"With proper recompense, of course. I've grown up a bit since those days, and I've gotten to know Kreacher and the Hogwarts' house elves, and as much as I hate to admit it, they really do like to serve humans. They really are insulted by offers of payment. I have also noticed that grateful thanks and thoughtful non-clothing gifts make their day. So, I've always got some goodies for them when they clean my rooms and office."

"What 'goodies' does a house elf like?"

"Odd stuff really: Kreature likes Christmas Tree ornaments, the shinier the better. Winky likes miniature glass unicorns. Arnie, he usually tends my rooms, loves scented candles, the more exotic the scent the better. Bubble bath usually goes over well. And playing cards. I don't know if they spend their off time soaking in the tub playing poker to the light of scented candles, but if so, more power to them! I figured I stock up on gifts and see if they'd want the job."

"Sounds like a plan. How about we talk more about the menu when you show me this location you've been talking about. I'll have a better idea of what's good to eat in the area if I know the area."

"Wonderful. So, how are the seeds you've been working on for my parents coming along?"


	62. In Which Snape Meets His InLaws

Chapter 66: In Which Snape Meets His In-Laws.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked, a tinge of nervous impatience in her voice.

"Almost, I just need to finish packaging up the seeds." Snape had decided to create a collection of wildflowers for his Bride Price. Magically modified wildflowers, they held their own water much longer than usual, could stand temperatures about ten degrees warmer than usual, and too much sun wouldn't burn them. He had chosen to do seeds instead of plants because he didn't know how a long Apparition would affect flowers, and he wanted to leave as much freedom as possible to the Grangers. If they didn't want to plant them right away, it wouldn't be a problem.

"I'm ready," Severus said, walking towards Hermione. "Have you got the papers?"

"Yes." She patted the back pocket of her jeans.

"Then let's go."

She took a hold of his arm, turned to face him, snuggled into his embrace, and began the spell. Two hours later, they were in her parent's garden. When they left, it had been night and summer; now it was mid-afternoon, and a cold, wintry drizzle was falling. Hermione led him quickly out of the garden and into the small, modern house.

"Hello!" She called out after stepping into a mudroom. Two people bounded in shortly after her voice went silent. The Doctors Granger were in their early fifties. Hermione was very much a composite of both of them. She had inherited Robert Granger's bushy hair, nose, and height. Jean Granger's eyes, mouth, and build had also found their way to her daughter. Both of them were embracing their daughter. Snape stood behind her, watching them, wondering how much Hermione would look like them as time went by. When they broke from their hugs, Hermione turned to him, took his hand, and said, "Mum, Dad, this is Severus."

He offered his hand, along with the correct pleasantries, while they looked him over. He had never felt so much like a specimen in a lab. _They aren't smiling, but they aren't scowling either. It could be worse._

"Severus, that's a unique name," Jean said as she led them into a well lit and cosy kitchen.

"Yes, it's a family name. The Princes were very attached to their traditions, and Severus was the name of the first male of each generation."

"Do you think you'll keep the tradition?"

Severus looked at Hermione. She looked back at him, and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

"I don't think so. I'm happy with it as my name, but there's no need to saddle another child with it." Jean seemed to think about that while setting the table with tea things.

"I suppose this is usually where we'd ask how you two met, but I guess that's not exactly the right question," Robert said while stirring milk into his tea.

"I suppose not. The first time I noticed Hermione was when she was eleven. I was teaching her first year Potions class, and she was almost jumping out of the seat to answer the questions. I remember wondering why she had ended up in Gryffindor, usually children that bright are Ravenclaws. You could say the second time I noticed her was after the War. I was in Flourish and Blotts, looking for something to read, and I saw her name on _American Magical Education_. It was because of that book I didn't just move when I saw her name on my list after the Marriage Act passed. Anyone who could make a book on the training of young witches and wizards that interesting was worth meeting in person. So we had drinks, hit it off, and now I'm here in your kitchen."

"Why didn't you look her up after you read the book?" Jean asked, offering him sugar to go with his tea.

"I wasn't exactly the most popular professor at Hogwarts. I didn't think any of my students would want to see me again. As to Hermione specifically, I didn't think she'd welcome my attention. In fact, I was rather stunned to see she was still single when the Act passed. I was sure I had heard she had married one of the Weasley boys."

Hermione looked at him, confusion in her eyes. "Really?"

"I don't read the Prophet all that carefully, but I could have sworn I had seen you mentioned in one of the wedding stories. Maybe as Harry's best woman?"

"Maybe. I was in George's first wedding, too."

"Could have been that."

They sat silently around the Granger's kitchen table, fiddling with cups and saucers.

"Harry tells me you're avid gardeners?" Severus asked to break the silence.

"Yes, we are. We've been adding to the back since we moved here. Last summer we decided to go organic, and to add a vegetable patch. The biggest problem is water. The vegetables love the light, but it gets so dry here, they just wither up and die. But we've got plans for a drip irrigation system this summer. Less water is wasted, and the plants get more at their roots. We should have a bumper crop of tomatoes and cucumbers this year. Jean wants to add strawberries, but I'm not sure how they'll do. Do you garden?" Robert asked.

"Yes, part of my business requires me to keep a good supply of rather rare plants on hand, so I have them growing behind the house. It's easier to keep the quality level high if I grow them myself."

"Do you grow anything just for the fun of it?" Jean asked.

"About a third of the garden is just there for my pleasure. Mostly the ornamental flowering shrubs that make up the hedges, but there are some herbs, one Japanese Maple, and my asparagus plot." He paused, drank from his cup of tea, and then said, "It's traditional in the magical world for the soon to be groom to give something to his in-laws. Harry had mentioned that both of you liked to garden, so I took some of my seed stock, and modified it to grow down here." He handed the pouch to Robert and continued, "They're mostly wildflowers, violets, forget-me-nots, buttercups, some clover, but they'll live in full sunlight with almost no water."

"So, they're magical?" Jean asked him. Robert had opened the pouch of seeds and looked at them carefully.

"Well, yes. I suppose I could breed wildflowers that might like full sun and no water, but it would have taken years."

"How will we explain them to our neighbours?" Jean was looking more concerned by the moment.

Snape exchanged glances with Hermione. Neither of them had anticipated this response. "Ummm. Your son-in-law is very good with plants, magic, you could say, and he gave you the seeds?" Snape smiled at them, trying to look more comfortable than he felt.

"Would this present be the Bride Price thing Arthur and Molly told us about?" Robert asked.

"Only if you accept it as such. If not, then it's just a nice gesture," Hermione answered her father.

"Why should we accept anything as a 'Bride Price'? Just the name alone makes me angry," Jean shot at Hermione.

"You should accept it because doing so will allow us to have the wedding we want, and it will make us happy. And, because, this is very much not an attempt of Severus to buy me from Dad. This is an attempt to jump through the necessary hoops so that come the second week of October we can stand up, bind ourselves to each other, and be married. Instead of having to go to a Magistrate to get a wedding license, jump through a whole different set of hoops, send it into our Ministry, and then jump through more hoops, before we can have the ceremony we want."

"What do we have to do?" Jean asked.

"Accept the flowers with good grace and sign the form showing that you received them and you will accept Severus as part of our family," Hermione answered, annoyance beginning to tinge her speech.

"And if we don't?" Jean Granger asked, staring at Severus, a challenge in her eyes.

Severus rose to the challenge. "Then, Dr. Granger, we'll go to the bloody Magistrate, get the wedding license, and get married the second week of October anyway. Look, I understand that I'm not your ideal of a son-in-law. In your place I wouldn't be thrilled to see me, either. But I'm the man who's here, and I the man your daughter wants, so how about we do all we can to make this easy for each other?"

"You're right. We are not thrilled to see you here. We wanted a man who was her age. We wanted a man who took the time to court her properly. We wanted a man who wanted her for her, a man who was swept off his feet by her mind. We wanted a man who decided on his own that making a life with her was the most important thing in his world. We didn't want someone who settled for her because she was the best person on his list." Jean's face was rigid as she spoke.

Snape gritted his teeth. He did not want to be having this conversation with the Grangers. He didn't want to be having it with anyone, for that matter. But he knew what Jean wanted, and decided he had to provide it. "I did not settle for Hermione. I was planning on moving when I saw her on my list, and decided to take a chance on her. Had I not been 'swept off my feet' I would have moved. I'm not so attached to England as to get into a bad marriage to stay there. As for time, I don't know too many Wizards who court for a long time for no particular reason. Harry married Ginny as quickly as he could. Arthur and Molly were married shortly after school. Tonks and Lupin? Two months?" Hermione nodded at him. "The longest engagement I can think of was a little over a year for Bill and Fleur. Once you know you've found the right person, what's the point of waiting?"

"How can you know she's the right person? You've been together for less than three months." Jean looked appalled at the idea. Snape wasn't sure if it was the idea that one could be certain so quickly, or that it was him in particular, but he knew what he had to do next.

"I know." His eyes held Jean's, neither of them blinked for a long time. Finally she looked down and reached for a pen. Hermione squeezed his hand under the table. He gave her a quick smile.

"Give me the paper," Jean said, and very quickly signed it, handing it to Robert, who likewise signed his name. "Now what?"

"Have fun planting them in the spring?" Severus shrugged.

"Where will you live?" Robert asked.

"I've already moved into Severus' home."

"Why his home?" Jean asked.

"It's a bit bigger, and it was easier to move Hermione's library into my home than to move my lab and garden into hers," Severus answered. Once more the only sound that filled the kitchen was the clinking of china.

"So, Severus, tell us about your family," Jean said after an awkward moment.

"These days I'm it. I've got some cousins, but we're not in touch anymore."

"Why not?" Robert asked.

"They're part of the muggle side of the family, and as such I had to stop seeing them when Vold War I started. It's been more than twenty years, and it would be rather difficult to explain why I dropped off the face of the Earth and then suddenly came back. I imagine they do not think of me often these days. We were not terribly close when we were younger."

"Speaking of the war, I understand you were also part of that vigilante group." Jean pounced when the opportunity presented itself. _Bloody hell, Harry warned me about this, now how do I get out of it?_

"Yes, I was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I was their spy among the Death Eaters, and, like your daughter, I am a decorated veteran."

"And how do you justify joining an illegal group for the purpose of killing another human?"

"Mother!" Hermione's eyes went wide. She wasn't sure if she was more angry for the question, or embarrassed that her mother would ask it. She spoke through gritted teeth, "Severus, you don't have to answer her rudeness. We have the paper we can leave now if you want."

"I'd like to try and answer her. I believe that the primary purpose of a government is the protection of its citizens. When the Ministry refused to acknowledge the re-appearance of Lord Voldemort, they abdicated their responsibility. When the government will no longer protect its people, it is the job of every citizen to protect themselves and each other. As such I rejoined the only group that was fighting Voldemort and reprised my role as spy. As to the legality, or illegality, I am under the impression that the French Resistance was illegal as well. That did not make it immoral or wrong.

"As for killing another human, there are times when killing is the correct answer. This was one of them. Voldemort could not be reasoned with. He could not be imprisoned. Traditionally, in our world, instead of the death penalty, the soul is sucked from a heinous offender, leaving him alive, but incapacitated. This would not have worked on Voldemort. He had so little of his soul intact the loss of another bit would have done nothing to harm him. The only answer was to kill him, and as such, I am proud to have helped him die."

Hermione's mother broke into a big smile. "It's a good answer. So, more tea anyone?"

Hermione glared at her mum, so angry at how Severus was treated she didn't think she could speak without screaming. Snape was beginning to understand why Hermione spent most of her time at The Burrow; he felt like he was going to have a case of whiplash from Jean's rapid mood shifts.

"What?" Her mother was now an image of sweet innocence. "Just because you're convinced he's got a spine of steel doesn't mean I was. Besides, I wanted to see what kind of moral thinker he is. Looks like a good one at that. Not to say I'm condoning killing or a bunch of seventeen-year-olds…"

"I was eighteen."

"Ah, yes, that makes a huge difference now doesn't it? Not to say I'm condoning a bunch of seventeen and _eighteen_-year-olds going off and doing what you did, you should have let the adults handle it, but that's long past. So Severus, what do you do now that your cloak and dagger days are over?"

"I'm a Potions Master. I run a consulting business. When different manufacturers want to create a formula, and can't quite get it done, they send it to me and I make it work."

"And is that a secure line of work?" Jean asked.

"Yes. I have contracts well into the year after next and no shortage of new ones coming in."

"And when you aren't in the lab?"

"I read. I listen to music or watch telly. I watch the occasional Quiddich game. I've been known to write. And for the last few months I've been spending time with your daughter. We did some travelling before coming here. That was enjoyable, and I'd like us to do more of it."

Snape had been almost on the verge of starting to relax when Jean dropped another verbal bomb on him. "Do you volunteer?"

He thought carefully about his answer, because in truth the answer was no. But, really, there wasn't a better way to say it without trying to sound dishonest. "No. I give money to organizations I support, but I feel my time is better spent in my lab or with your daughter."

Both of the older Grangers seemed to think over his answer. It was, as he was beginning to realize, as usual, Jean who spoke first.

"We're glad to see you aren't without social conscious, but, with your specialized skills, don't you feel a responsibility to do more?"

_Is this a trick question of some sort? What's the best way to answer? _"What do you mean by more?" _Good, that should at least make it easier to come up with a good answer._

"Don't you feel a responsibility to alleviate suffering? You're a Potions Master. Couldn't you be brewing up cures in your spare time?

"I could be, but I prefer not to. If I want to do my job well, my mind needs time off. I can't just spend all my time in the lab brewing away. I'll end up burned out, and in that case I can't make the money I use to give to the causes I wish to support."

Jean and Robert didn't seem satisfied, but decided to go no further along that line. Snape decided this would be a good chance to get them talking about themselves, and allow him some time out of the spotlight.

"What organizations do you support?" Severus asked.

That, it turned out, was exactly the correct question. Jean and Robert spent the next hour talking about how they had just joined an organization that travelled into the bush one weekend a month to offer dental services to the Aborigines. After she wound down, Jean began to ask Hermione about the wedding, which Snape also enjoyed because his main job was to sit there and look supportive.

And then they were in rocky waters again. It started innocently enough. Hermione had been telling her mother about the dress, and then she turned to her father. "Daddy, I'd really like it if you'd give me away."

Snape was expecting something sweet, like her father sweeping his baby girl into his arms and talking about how he'd been dreaming of that day for years. He was not expecting what followed.

Robert Granger turned a delicate shade of pink. "Oh, Honey, you know I can't do that."

Snape blinked, not sure he had heard correctly.

Hermione said, looking sad, "It would mean a lot to me, Dad."

"I know it would, sweetie, but I can't do it. You aren't mine to give. You belong to yourself. You always have, and you always will. And, even if you marry him, you won't belong to Severus, either. You can't be given or taken. You aren't some bag of goods."

Hermione took a deep breath, tears just beginning on her eyes, and Snape stared at her father in shocked horror.

"I understand, Dad," Hermione said softly, disappointed. Snape knew he could do one of two things. He could hold Hermione's hand and then talk with her about this when they went home. Or he could make an ass out of himself by berating her father in front of her.

"I don't." His voice was angry. _Hell, they don't like me all that much anyway. _"Your daughter's only going to do this once, and part of her dream of a wedding includes you walking her down the aisle, and you won't do it?"

Robert turned his full attention to Snape, and Snape noticed that he had just as much passion and self-righteousness as his daughter. "You are correct. I've already bent my principals enough to sign that Bride Price receipt; I have no desire to compromise them further by propping up the idea that a marriage is a deal between father and son-in-law over the future of a woman."

"But you know that isn't true."

"Symbols matter, Severus, and this is a symbol I won't be part of."

"Let me just make sure I'm absolutely clear here. You will not walk your daughter towards me on our wedding day because you think it looks like a transfer of ownership, even though, you, me, and everyone in attendance at our wedding knows it isn't?"

"Would you take Communion in a church you don't belong to?"

"If my daughter asked me to, for her wedding, certainly." _Whether a Priest would serve me or not is a whole different question._

"But it would be a lie."

"That would take less than two minutes and make her happy. I've lied quite a bit longer and for significantly less pleasant reasons in the past."

"I'm not in the habit of lying for anyone's pleasure."

Hermione noticed that both her father and fiancé had similar looks of confused horror on their faces at that moment.

"I knew it was a long shot Severus," Hermione said to him. "That's part of why Harry's my best man."

"Oh. Still…"

"It's okay. Really." She looked at her parents. "We should probably get going. Thanks for having us."

The goodbyes were somewhat cooler than the hellos. But in a matter of minutes Snape and Hermione were in the back garden, getting ready to apparate home.

"That went well," Hermione said, not too much sarcasm in her voice.

"Oh yes. I'm guessing I'm not going to win the Son-In-Law-of-the-Year award anytime soon."

"Probably not, but you won a lot of points with me."


	63. In Which We Explore Locations

Chapter 67: In Which We Explore Locations

On Monday afternoon Hermione took Severus by the arm. "Ready?" she asked.

He nodded.

When the spinning stopped, Snape found himself outside, looking at a large open space ringed by old oaks on the one side and a huge decrepit castle on the other.

Hermione smiled at him. "How about here?"

Snape studied the castle, feeling like it was familiar, but unable to place it. "Where are we?"

"Ewloe Castle, in Wales. In October the leaves will be turning: red, yellow, and orange, and if we go for afternoon into evening we can get the light of sunset. We'll have thousands of little fairy lights all over the castle and as it gets darker they'll light up. I think it'll be really beautiful here."

They continued to walk around. "How do you know this place?" Severus asked.

"We camped here a few nights, when we were on the hunt. It was way out of the way, and we needed a safe place to hole up. Fred and George picked it. It's got enough of its own magical energy that everything we did was masked by it."

"What were you doing?"

"A broadcast of Potterwatch, some healing, a few attempts at locator spells, but mostly we needed it for cover for Potterwatch." Hermione took Snape's hand and led him up a series of wooden stairs.

"I was thinking we could have the ceremony here, in front of the tower, and then have the party here and in the lower grassy area as well. Food up here, dancing down there, or vice versa."

"Just to make sure, you want an outdoor wedding at a ruined castle in autumn? We could find a functioning castle." Snape could see what Hermione wanted to do with the place, and it would look good, but he wasn't quite sold on this spot.

"I like this castle. Just the age makes it romantic. This is one of the great examples of thirteenth century Welsh Castle Building. We're standing in front of a D tower, which was an innovation in the merging of comfort for those who lived inside the castle with maximum protection. The round side of the tower provides for a larger range of fire, while the square side lets the people on the inside have bigger rooms."

"So, is it this particular place, or is it romantic ruined castles in general, that you like?"

"Why? Do you have some other ideas?"

"I've got a ruined castle or two in the soft places of my heart." He smiled sweetly.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "You are a man of many mysteries."

"Not so mysterious. Pure Bloods think there's nothing better than showing off how old and rich the family line is, so one of their hobbies is showing off the family manse. Some of them actually were quite lovely, though. Although, would a place that once housed the Black family eight hundred years ago, bother you?"

"Did Bellatrix ever live there?"

"No, she wouldn't have been caught dead in the place. She would have had to have hobbies to have found the place interesting."

"Then lead on." He took her by the arm and the familiar twisting and pressing feeling engulfed them. When the pressure let up and Hermione opened her eyes she was greeted by the sight of medieval stone arches, gothic windows, and the sun shining through where the ceiling would have been.

"I guess technically this is a church, but it was never used as such. If you look," He pointed behind her, to the ruined side of the church, where stones tumbled to the ground and allowed a view of the grounds outside, "over there, you'll see the ruins of the house."

The 'house' was also an example of gothic architecture. Fine carved grey stone, tall arching windows and doors, and a few gargoyles graced the intact sides of the building. The side closest to the church, about two hundred meters away, was also in tumble-down condition.

"What happened between here and the house?"

"You noticed that it's only the two facing sides that are in ruins?"

"Kind of hard to miss."

"No one really knows for sure, but the story, at least as I heard it, goes something like this: In the early twelve hundreds Antaurach Black lived around here. He had found himself widowed and was looking for a new bride. He was in the process of aligning his house with the MacIntyres when he saw Alhana Bright. She was young, fair skinned, blonde, very blue eyes, and also came from a good family…"

He continued the story in his own words, as the memory of Narcissa telling it ran through his head. '_Her name was Alhana and she was known as one of the great beauties of her day. She possessed skin the color of newly cut oak, eyes that were startlingly blue, and hair that to this day can never be properly described, but if you can imagine stands of woven silver and gold, you'd get an idea. She was fifteen the year that Antaurach Black saw her. _

_She was visiting at a friend's house, a friend who Antaurach was in the process of courting, but when he saw Alhana, he broke the engagement and was at her father's door the next day, asking what could be done to win her hand._

_Her father, Samuel Bright, was a greedy man, and he had two suitors, both of great wealth, both of good family, asking for his daughter's hand. So he made them a challenge, each man would have a year to make a home for his daughter. The better of the two homes would win. _

_Antaurach came here, the prettiest of his lands, and began to build. He brought in Dwarves to do the stonework and Goblins for the stained glass windows. He paid an enormous sum to get Sylvan Elves, thought to be a myth, to carve the wooden furniture for him. When a year passed, this house and chapel were finished and almost entirely furnished. He left one floor of the house empty, save for a chest of gold. That floor was hers, to design as she liked._

_Antaurach Black returned to the Bright home, and found Alhana even more beautiful than he had remembered. And there he also found Restulan Grint, the other suitor. The two men waited, with ill temper, while Samuel Bright and his daughter inspected the homes. When they returned, Alhana graced both men with a smile and then left them to talk to her father._

_Her father drew the men into his sitting room. 'I am amazed at the level of craftsmanship and talent that has gone into these homes. They are both so fine that I could not decide between the two.' He let those words fall into the room and then said nothing._

_Restulan was a Dragon Rider, for in those days the secret of how to speak with Dragons had not yet been lost. He did not know that Antaurach was also a Dragon Rider. So he offered a duel. A mounted duel. He figured that when he arrived on Blaze and Antaurach arrived on his horse that would cause Samuel to see he was the better of the two men and choose him._

_Antaurach accepted the duel, for much the same reason that Restulan proposed it. He too did not know that his opponent would come on dragonback. He too felt that his swooping in on the back of Fireflash would cause Samuel to choose him._

_Antaurach, as the challenged party, was allowed to choose the location, so he chose his new home. The grandeur of the home, and the Dragon, and all the magic he could bring to bear on the situation would surely cause Samuel to choose him. _

_Samuel set the day for a month off, to allow both men to gain his daughter's acquaintance, and more importantly, to allow her to get to know both of them. He had enjoyed his game of making them both build her homes worthy of a queen, but he would not force her to marry a man she had never so much as shared a word with. _

_The month sped by rapidly. Both men fell more and more deeply in love with Alhana with each passing day. But both were fearful and jealous, wondering if she loved him in return. They began to look forward to the day of the duel and to humiliating the other one, sure that that would be the final triumph to win her heart._

_Alhana and her father arrived at Antaurach's home the day before. And, for the first time he had the opportunity to be with her without his rival's presence. He hosted a lavish party for them in the new home, and spent the night dancing and talking with Alhana. By the end of the night he was sure that she truly loved him, and that by noon the next day, he would have won her for his own._

_Of course, stories like these end in tragedy, for romances always end thus. And the tragedy here was one that neither of the men could have foreseen. Dragonkind live long, long lives, and during those lives they take just one mate. In centuries past Blaze had killed Fireflash's mate, as an act of revenge for some slight now lost to history. Fireflash had vowed revenge over the corpse of his love._

_So it was, as both men prepared their Dragons, ready to swoop in and make a grand entrance, that the Dragons had different ideas. Fireflash had caught the scent of his sworn enemy and was ready to kill. _

_Those who saw it say that it was a truly spectacular aerial battle. As soon as the Dragons closed upon each other they lost all memory of the men riding upon them. Both of the riders were killed in a matter of minutes by the heat of the dragon fire, so hot that it caused their armour to burn. The Dragons circled, clawed, breathed fire, and cast spells of their own magic at each other for twenty minutes, until Blaze crashed into Fireflash, and both locked together, spinning wildly, dragon fire spewing in all directions, came hurtling to the ground. The combination of the heat of the fire, and the concussion of the impact killed the dragons, and destroyed everything for hundreds of meters. _

_Alhana, seeing her future destroyed in a fiery cataclysm, broke free of her father, and threw herself into the flames. And, on the anniversary of their doom, the ghosts of Antaurach, Alhana, and Restulan re-enact their deaths. _

_Of course, tragic romances must also always end with a possibility of hope, and here is the hope that goes with this story. It is rumoured, that should this chapel ever be used for a wedding, their souls will at last fine peace.'_

_Regulus then gave her a gentle shove. 'Come on cuz, you're just hoping we'll fall for it, and try and get that git you're marrying to agree to do it here.'_

_She had smiled brightly at both of them, the image of the Alhana she had conjured for them. 'Maybe, I am, but it's still a good story.'_

_'He won't agree to it, he's set on having it at the Manor,' Snape had added, looking over the ruined house and chapel. 'It is beautiful though.'_

_'It was worth a try. Let's head back before someone notices we've gone,' she had said, and they returned to her cousin's home._

Snape finished his version of the story, leaving out the bit about Narcissa wanting to get married here.

Hermione spent the next few minutes wandering about the chapel, looking critically at the stonework, the windows, and the floor.

"Dwarven stonework?"

"Supposed to be the best ever."

"I'll buy that. You can barely tell this wasn't just carved out of one huge block of granite. So who told you this tale of romance and woe?"

"Narcissa. She liked stories and was good at telling them."

"Narcissa took you here to tell you a story about an old, ruined house?" Hermione looked incredulous.

"It was at one of the seemingly hundreds of engagement parties I ended up having to go to for Lucius and Narcissa."

"Oh." An image of a young Narcissa, happy and excited at the idea of her marriage found its way into Hermione's head. "They were real people." Hermione shook her head. "I have a hard time getting my head around that. They were so much caricatures of Slytherin Pure Blood Death Eaterness, that it's hard to remember they were real people. And your real friends." She gazed up at the stained glass windows, beautifully wrought images of angels amid roses and lilies. Her fingers stroked the still smooth stone, carved so carefully that it was almost impossible to find the joints. "So who owns this now?"

Snape thought long and hard. "Closest I can figure is Harry or Draco. Maybe Andromeda Tonks, if her banishment from the family wasn't binding."

"If it's Harry or Andromeda, then using it isn't a problem. I don't think Draco would go for us getting married on his land."

"If it's his, then I'm in charge of making sure that he uses it correctly, at least for a few more years. But, if I had to guess," Snape said, looking out at the ground between the two buildings. "I'd say it belongs to Harry or Andromeda. The grass has to be waist high, the weeds are a mess, and no one has been in either of these places for years. If it was part of Draco's holdings, he'd have the grounds manicured, repaired the house, and would have sold it, or used it as a fancy B&B for travelling wizards looking for luxury accommodations."

"Let's go talk to Harry."

"You want to do it here?"

Hermione smiled at him. "Yes, I like it here. Granted, my parents will probably have a heart attack about a wedding in a church."

It'd been bothering Snape for days now, and he guessed this would be the best opportunity he'd have to ask without insulting her. "What is it with your parents and weddings?"

"Oh, God, that's a long story, let's talk about it later." It wasn't the answer he was hoping for, but he was willing to respect it. They continued to chat while walking around the grounds, plans for a wedding beginning to solidify in their minds.


	64. In Which We Explore The Drs Granger

Chapter 68: In Which We Explore the Drs Granger

Monday was almost over. Snape and Hermione had gone from the Black property, officially called Alhana's Haven, to Harry's and found that he did indeed own it now. Kreacher was able to tell him that the property had been one of Walburga's favourite places, it was given to her by her Great Uncle Sirius at her wedding, and she had named her first born in his honour. Thus it was now Harry's, and he was quite interested in seeing the place, never having known it existed before.

They had returned with Harry, Ginny, the kids, a picnic dinner packed by Kreacher, and spent the evening there.

Later that night, when they were comfortably snuggled under light blankets, Snape asked his question again, "So, really, what is it with your parents and weddings?"

Hermione lay there quietly, but he could feel her tense.

"Better yet, what is it with you, your parents, and weddings?"

"I think I made them like this." Her voice was small, and she snuggled further into his arms.

"It's not your fault if they act like a wedding is a personal affront."

"No, not just weddings, all of it, I think they became so extreme because of me."

"Why? What could you have done…?"

He didn't get a chance to finish before she was answering, "They hated the idea of the Horcrux Hunt. They couldn't understand why we needed to go, or why it was important. They didn't think they were targets and refused to move or do anything to protect themselves. We were in the middle of a huge row, an impossible row, and they tossed down an ultimatum: if I left for the hunt, I was to never come back.

"I went up to my room, thought long and hard. When I went back down, I told them I'd stay, but I needed to talk to Ron and Harry first. They were relieved, so they let me go. I went back to the Hogwarts Library and read everything I could on memory modification charms.

"When I came home, I used the Imperius on them. Then I had them help me to remove every memory that could identify them as my parents. By the time I was done, I had two huge bottles filled with any and all of their memories including me. Then I oblivated them and remade them into Wendell and Monica Wilkins.

"Then I kept them in the house, imperiused, waiting while I set it up for them to move. I got them packed, on the plane, and out of England, all the while they had no idea who I was. For one last added layer of protection, I removed those memories as well when they were boarding the plane.

"A year later, I found them, put the memories back, and eventually they forgave me, and we got on again, but ever since there's been no moderation in them.

"They used to be classic third way liberals. They could be overbearing, but it didn't happen all that often. They worked for the NHS, but also spent a few afternoons a week in a private clinic for extra money. Now they think private medical care is evil. They believed in recycling being good to the environment, but we still went on skiing vacations. Now, between the carbon footprint involved in the travelling to a ski slope, or the potential damage to the ecosystem by swishing over it, there are no more skiing vacations. My mom was an old school feminist, and she had good reason to be one, dental school for a woman in the early seventies wasn't a picnic. Now she sees oppression everywhere, even in innocent things. She almost bit Harry's head off when he called her Mrs Granger. Monica and Wendell were radicals, and radicals they've stayed.

"The Robert Granger I grew up with, he would have walked me down the aisle. He wouldn't have said a peep about our wedding being in a church. He wouldn't have been thrilled with the political implications of 'giving me away,' but escorting me to my future, especially with my mum, would have been just fine.

"I changed them, and a lot of the time these days, I'm not sure it was a good thing."

Snape's voice was soft and soothing. "And if they had died?"

"I know. I survived Ron's death because there was literally nothing else I could have done to save him. If they had been killed because I just left them unprotected on their own…"

"They would have been. After the Ministry fell, your parents and the Dursleys were on top of the Wanted Muggle lists. Your parent's home was watched, and when it became clear that they didn't just go off on a holiday, further searching was done, but all your neighbours could tell us was the moving lorry had been there in the middle of July. You saved them."

"Sort of, Robert and Jean I grew up with are shadows, glimmers, in these two current people."

Severus held her tighter. He kissed her ear. "You didn't know it would happen."

"No, but that doesn't absolve me of guilt. I stole their free will in the name of keeping them safe."

"Did they understand the danger?"

"They would have had to have believed it was real to understand it."

"Would you have pulled them out of a burning building?"

"Yes."

"Pushed them out of the way of an oncoming car?"

"In a heartbeat."

"How is this different?"

"I wouldn't have had to mind rape them to get them out of a burning building or out of the way of an oncoming car."

Snape didn't have a response to that. He just held her closer, and kissed her forehead. After a few cuddlesome moments he asked, "So, what happens now?"

She sighed. "Go on with the wedding and our lives, and hope they behave themselves. I know one thing; I won't be sitting them anywhere near Percy. That's an ugly argument about women's rights waiting to happen."

They lay quietly in bed, sleep nowhere nearby.

Snape spoke again, his voice soft in the dark, "Maybe they're emulating you."

"Huh?"

"You showed them an example of putting everything on the line for what you believed in, maybe they respect that, maybe they're walking in your footsteps."

"If that's so, maybe they should have looked a little closer at what putting everything on the line cost me."

"Well, it's not like they're in danger of being killed by an angry mob of free market dentists. There's a bit less risk for them."

She tried to laugh at his joke, but couldn't quite do it. "If they were going to emulate me, I'd rather they went for my good qualities."

"Certainty is a good quality."

"I wasn't certain. I was a self-righteous prat."

Snape realized the verbal corner he had talked himself into. He kissed her deeply to avoid having to answer. She kissed him back.

"Your resounding denial of my self-righteous-pratness is noted."

"Someone made it very clear to me not all that long ago that she did not want to be lied to."

"Oh, God, speaking of self-righteous-pratness. Thanks for not tossing me out of the house when I did that. I guess you could say I'm still working on that aspect of my personality. It comes out less than it used to, though."

He kissed her deeply once again, stroking his palm from her hair to her hip. "I knew you weren't perfect when I signed on for this. I can deal with you being self-righteous. I imagine it will give me some good opportunities for teasing you."

She smiled at him, kissed him, placing her hand on his chest. Hermione slid her leg along his, wrapping it over his hip.

"So you like to tease me, huh?"

His hand slid the hem of her nightgown above her hip and then rested softly on her bum. "Oh, yes. I intended to spend many happy years teasing you." He gave her a quick pinch.

She made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a laugh and drew her hand down his chest. He inhaled sharply when she found her target. "Can you stand to be teased back?"

"I think stand is the operative word there." He grinned and kissed her deeply and then lightly on her eyelids. "And I can do it as long as you want me to."


	65. In Which We Discuss Love

Chapter 69: In Which We Discuss Love

This time, when he heard Severus' voice coming out of his Floo, Arthur was not startled. He was beginning to get used to the idea that Snape would soon be the newest member of his family.

_That is, if the two of them ever get to it and actually get married. _Ginny had told him that a date was in the offing, so maybe they were getting closer, but so too was the deadline.

"Hello Severus."

"Hello Arthur, do you have time to talk?"

"Not right this second, but I've got a free lunch period in two hours."

"Can I buy you lunch then?"

"I always accept offers of lunch." Severus named one of the new pubs in Diagon Alley, and Arthur gave him a time.

Arthur was running a tad late, so when he entered the pub Snape was already sitting with a beer in front of him. Arthur joined him, made his apologies, and waved for the waitress to join them. He gave the menu a quick glance, ordered, and in a matter of seconds had a drink sitting in front of him as well.

"Now that that's sorted, what can I do for you Severus?"

Severus looked at him, almost as if he was seeing Arthur for the first time. The man who entered the pub had been brisk and competent. Snape felt better about his best man choice by the second.

"I'm looking for a best man."

Arthur thought for a moment. "I suppose Harry would do it for you."

"No. I meant would you be my best man?" Both men looked surprised at the idea.

"I've never been a best man. Father of the Bride, Father of the Groom, eight times," he sighed. "Percy's got to stop getting married, and, of course, the groom himself, way back in the dark ages, but never a best man. What would I have to do?"

"Making sure I show up at the wedding, stand next to me when I say my vows, provide a sounding board for said vows, bachelor dinner hosting, and I believe there's a speech at the wedding. But I'll settle for standing next to me at the ceremony and someone to bounce vow ideas off of."

"Would I get to wear a suit? I've never worn a muggle suit, and I think I might look rather snazzy in one."

"Hermione tells me the Patil sisters are interested in making my wedding suit, I don't see why they couldn't do one for you, as well."

"Sold. So, what do you have?"

"What do I have?"

"Vows, man. What do you have?"

Severus was saved from answering immediately by the arrival of their lunches. He bit into a chip and thought while chewing. After swallowing he said, "Not much. I know what wedding vows are supposed to have. Love, honour, cherish, forsaking until we die. I get that. But, look, we're having a great time, and we're awfully fond of each other, but this started as an arrangement of convenience. And, I don't know if she sees me as anything besides a pleasant companion. And I do know I'm very much not Ron." Both of the men chewed quietly while Arthur thought of how best to answer Severus.

"No, you aren't. Molly and I love Hermione, she's more our daughter than Robert and Jean's. We love Ron. But, one thing we've worked long and hard at is seeing the person who is actually there. We've tried to hold no illusions about our children; we probably haven't fully succeeded, but we've tried.

"I don't think Ron and Hermione would have worked out, what's more Molly didn't think it would, either. They were a lovely couple for a first, young love. But he didn't make it home, and Hermione was left with a vision of her first love that didn't necessarily correspond with who Ron actually was. If they had had the chance to have a normal courtship, they would have noticed that they weren't suited for a long term romantic relationship. If they had had the chance to break up, she would have noticed that she was more suited to someone like you or Percy: someone more thoughtful, scholarly.

"I think she's finally noticed there are options outside of tall, ginger, and handsome." Arthur took another bite of his sandwich. "Do you love her?"

Snape didn't answer for a long time. He was also getting to the point of seeing more in the world than tall, ginger, and pretty. "I don't know. I like to think that I could. But, it's not like it was before."

"Severus when was the last time you actually sat down and thought about what love means?"

Severus didn't have to answer. Arthur knew the answer was never. "Your first love was effortless. You saw her and suddenly all was right in the world? You were in love, and nothing has ever quite lived up to it?" Snape nodded. Arthur continued, "But you're an adult now, and you must be old enough to know that nothing is really effortless."

Arthur took a drink, ate a bit of his sandwich, and continued, "Look, I married my childhood love. I fell in love with Molly long before we went to Hogwarts. And I was lucky because the childhood love helped both of us to get past the less than perfect bits. We were so used to being in love, that it carried us through the early rough bits, and provided us with a foundation to build off of as we got older. But I can tell you, the childhood love, it's not there anymore. And it wouldn't be because we aren't children anymore.

"Will you honour her? Do you cherish her? Is your life better off for having her in it? Do you miss her when she's gone? Do you want her with you as you age? Do you want your children to be hers? Does her happiness enrich you? Will you take up her burdens and give her yours?"

"Yes." The answer came easily to Severus.

"Then what other word would you use to describe that? Look, Molly and I have been together a long time. The heart pounding passion fades. It comes back now and again, but it's not permanent. The stuff I just asked you about, that's what lasts. That's the heart of love. That's what keeps you going through the hard times. When you feel like your heart is so broken it will never heal, that's the balm that makes the pain bearable. If you feel that way about her, you love her man. So you might as well tell her, and trust me, sooner is better than later.

"In many ways a wedding, and the vows that go with it, are about hope. Hope that you'll be able to do it. Hope that you'll love each other in the years to come. If you're lucky, and I hope to God that you are, you'll never have to deal with anything more trying than burying her parents. If you're not..." Arthur's voice caught. He cleared his throat and kept speaking. "If you're not, that's when you'll know for sure. If she's still there when all has gone to hell and your heart is ripped into a thousand pieces, you'll know. Until you get there, it's all about hope.

"Think about that, come up with some vows, and I'll be happy to listen to them. Now, tell me about this speech thing, or better yet, tell me about suits..."

* * *

Snape sat in his study, thinking about what Arthur said. He had a pad of legal paper and his favourite pen (quills and parchment were great for formal correspondence, for jotting down notes, he was happier with his muggle writing instruments.) His chair was comfortable. The tea at his side was one of his own blends. All he had to do was figure out what to say and how to say it.

He drummed his fingers. The clock ticked. Inspiration hit. He went to his music collection, grabbed anything that could possibly be called a love song, and brought it up to his study. He loaded the disks into his CD player. Scarborough Fair from Simon and Garfunkel began to flow through the room. _When did I buy this? _He shook his head; it wasn't his usual musical taste. _Nice enough though, 'she once was a true love of mine…'_

Inspiration hit again. He wrote down his proposal.

_Marry me, build a life with me, grow old with me, share my home, and my bed, and my name. Be my comfort and joy, and let me be yours until we quit this world._

_Now, turn that into vows. _He found himself doodling on the side of the page. _Come on man! How hard can this be?_

His pen flew over the paper. _I Severus Snape, take you Hermione Granger to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live._

He crumpled the page and tossed it toward his rubbish bin. _New vows! Vows that say something about love! Not some tired retread that she heard at each of Percy's ten thousand weddings._

The sound of the song behind him made it through his mind and onto the page before he really noticed what he was writing. _'And wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away.' _Crumple. Toss.

_What are we doing? Getting married? Well, yes, any idiot knows that. It's a binding ceremony. Bind is a good word. _He wrote it on a fresh piece of paper.

_'I bind my life to yours.' _He lifted his pen, and looked at that line for a good minute. _I like that, it's a good start. That really covers all the hoops, do I need anything else? Depends, do you want her to all but swoon at your feet from the power of your deeply felt romantic words? If not, then yes, you're done._

He clutched the pen. Words poured out rapidly. _I bind my hope to yours. I bind my joy to yours. I bind my sorrow to yours. I will honour you. I will cherish you. _He stared at the paper, knowing what went next, willing his fingers to move. He felt his resistance break, and with it a surge of joy filled him.

_I will love you._

He had done it, written it; all that was left was to say it in his own mind. _I love you Hermione. I love you. _


	66. I Love You

Chapter 70: I Love You

When Hermione had wanted to talk with him about her vows, she had made a nice dinner and had it waiting for him when he got home. Severus decided that he could do that as well. Hermione wouldn't be getting back from Fleur's for another two hours, which would give him time to make a good meal, set the scene, and then…

"I love you," he said it out loud for the first time.

"I love you." It felt odd coming off of his tongue. Like something someone else was supposed to say. _You've never said it out loud before, never said it to a live person; of course it feels awkward. _

_Stop dithering about and get cooking! If you want to be done by the time she gets here, you need to get going. _

He stared into the freezer, looking at his options for dinner. He by passed the chicken and salmon, and picked up the lamb chops. While holding them, another frozen packet caught his eye: Italian sausage. _Haven't done pasta in a long time. _

He grabbed the sausage and set it on the counter with a very gentle warming spell. By the time he was back from the market, the sausage would be thawed.

He apparated to his usual spot right behind the market. A moment later, he was strolling through the produce, picking out red peppers, garlic, mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, oregano, basil, and a selection of olives. Severus then headed to the bakery for a ciabatta. As he lifted the loaf into his basket, a bright flash of color caught his eye.

_Flowers. Good idea! What kind? The first time we talked about a wedding she said there was some sort she wanted… What was it? _His eyes scanned the blooms, hoping that a shape or color would trigger the memory. Then he saw them, gracefully curved, in deep red and snowy white. _Calla lilies. She wanted calla lilies. _He grabbed a half dozen of white ones and of the reds, and was halfway to the checkout counter before remembering he didn't have anything to put them in, unless he intended to transfigure something. He went back to where the flowers were, and looked over the vases. None of them made him particularly happy, but he grabbed the cheapest one anyway. He'd turn it into something special when he got home.

Once home, he began his prep work. All the veggies needed to be sliced, the sausage needed to brown, and then they all needed to be cooked together into a sauce. He started with his usual pre-cooking routine, put some music on, wash hands, lay out the cutting board, knife, and food, and then got to work.

Half an hour later his sauce was simmering, and Hermione was due home in an hour. He went to the table and began to lay the silverware. The vase he purchased looked dumpy and awkward with the rest of their tableware, but a bit of concentration and wand waving took care of that.

_Table's set, food's cooking, music's playing, now what? What do women do when they want a romantic night? All of that and then put something skimpy on. _The image of him in a little, tiny men's bikini jumped into his head, and then jumped right back out again. _No! I look fine as it is. There's no need to do anything silly or drastic!_

He stirred the sauce and put the water on to boil. _How do I tell her? Do I just take her arms, hold her, and tell her? Should I get on my knees? I didn't do that when I asked her to marry me, it might go well now. After dinner, tonight, before we have sex__? After? During? During could be trouble, she might think it's because of the sex. Damn it! This is supposed to be easy. I should just look at her and know, and then the right moment will just hit us, and that'll be it. Nice and easy and perfect. This isn't a bloody dance that needs to have every move choreographed in advanced._

_Calm down, having a hissy fit won't make it any easier. Dances get choreographed because you want them to be perfect, and you want this to be perfect. _He grabbed a bottle of wine, and opened it. Severus set it on the table, and looked at the clock. Forty-five minutes until she got back.

_Maybe some inspiration would be good. _Snape set his spoon to slowly stirring the sauce, walked over to Hermione's library, and began to browse through her books. He was looking for something helpful, something that was clearly a romance would have been his first choice, but nothing on her shelves seemed to fit that bill. He focused on the fiction, looking for signs on some of the books that they had been read often. He'd pick them out at random and see what pages they fell open to. After ten minutes of skimming conversations, some rather humorous parody, and a few fight scenes, he found something that might be promising.

His eyebrows rose as he continued to read. _She likes smut! Tomorrow or the next day I need to spend some time really looking over her book collection. _His eyes quickly skimmed the pages, looking for something romantic rather than sexual. Unfortunately for him, the romance at hand wasn't particularly relevant to them. The sex, on the other hand, left him with some ideas for after dinner.

He was looking in the fridge to see if he even owned any chocolate sauce, or a suitable alternative, when the though hit him. _Write it down. Go to your office, find some good paper, and write your vows. Put them on her plate, she'll read them while you serve the food. Then she'll respond, and you'll react. Plus she'll have a nice little keepsake; women like things like that. _

Snape was not a calligrapher. He didn't have the interest or patience to work on developing particularly nice handwriting. He did like good paper and pens that flowed smoothly. So, although the handwriting was tiny and spiky, the parchment was a heavy, satiny cream, and the ink a glossy black. He finished writing and folded the paper in half. He wrote her name on the top half and laid it at her place. He put the pasta on to cook.

All that was left now was to wait for her to return, stir the sauce, and maybe get that book and read a bit more of it.

* * *

Hermione stepped into the Floo at Shell Cottage and stepped out at her home. Even before the dizziness passed she noticed the good smells coming from the kitchen.

She poked her head into the kitchen and saw a spoon stirring spaghetti sauce. She took the spoon and gave it a taste. _Pretty good, needs a bit more salt. _She added a pinch of salt, stirred, and tasted it again. _Perfect! Where's Severus?_

She walked through the house, saw the table was set, and figured Snape had to be nearby. Hermione walked upstairs. _He must be in his office, reading or working on his notes. _She poked her head into his office, but he wasn't there. _How odd. He wouldn't leave the house if he was cooking. I'll check the bedroom and then head for his lab. _As she walked past her library towards their bedroom, she caught sight of him. _What's he doing in my library? What's he reading? _Her eyes flicked over the book, and caught the title. _Oh God, he finally decides he wants some fiction, so he has to read that! _She felt her cheeks heat up.

Severus had gotten into the book. He hadn't noticed the sound of her walking though the house, so it startled him when he noticed her standing in the doorway to her library.

"Hi," he said, feeling like he should hide the book and then feeling silly, it was her book after all.

"Hi back. When did you take up fiction?" She noticed he was blushing a little when she mentioned the book.

He glanced at the clock. "About half an hour ago."

"Really." She nodded at him, her eyebrows high on her head with curiosity. "And what led to your new found desire to read my books?"

"Not all of your books, but this on caught my interest."

"I'm sure it did." She smirked at him. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I was in need of some inspiration. I thought something in here might help."

"What could you want inspiration from here for?" _Let alone from that book. Things are going just fine in that department, right? He's not bored already, is he?_

"How about you sit down at the table? I'll plate up dinner and tell you about it while we eat."

He marked the page in her book, placed it on the arm of her chair, and wrapped an arm around her, steering her toward the stairs.

"Go, sit, pour the wine, I'll join you in a minute." He watched her head toward the table, his heart beating very quickly. He saw her pick up the paper, and ducked into the kitchen. Part of him wanted to watch her read it, part of him didn't. If she didn't love him… _Don't think about that. This will work. Put the spaghetti on the plates and get it sauced. She expects you in there in a minute._

Hermione saw something at her usual place. It took a second before her eyes realized what it was. A small piece of paper with her name on it. She lifted it gingerly. _What doesn't he want to say to my face? _Her eyes scanned the page.

_Hermione,_

_I bind my life to yours._

_I bind my joy to yours._

_I bind my sorrow to yours._

_I bind my hopes to yours._

_I will honour you._

_I will cherish you._

_I will love you._

_I will be your husband._

_I love you,_

_Severus_

Her eyes filled with tears, and her lips parted into a smile. She twisted in her chair to see him coming into the dining room carrying two plates of spaghetti. She let him put the plates down, before standing and wrapping her arms around him. For a moment she just held him, her head against his chest.

Then she pulled back and cupped his face in her hands. She stared at him a long time, noticing the nervousness in his eyes, but she not quite able to speak yet. Hermione made sure her smile was large and bright, trying to reassure him with it.

Hermione stood on her toes to kiss his forehead, followed by his nose, and then his lips. She spent a good two minutes on his lips. Lingering on their taste and feel, and trying to compose herself enough so she could speak without crying. Finally, she thought she could do it.

Once more she pulled back, blinking at her tears, a fantastic smile on her face, and this time words did come. "I couldn't have said it first. I tried, but I couldn't do it. Just to say it was to risk losing it, and I don't ever want to lose this. I love you, Severus."

Snape's eyes closed, and he sighed deeply. Relief, peace, hope, joy, and a deep satisfaction all washed over him. He was loved. He was home. He pulled Hermione tightly against him, resting his chin on her head. His lips found her ear, and he kissed it delicately. Then he whispered, "I love you, Hermione."


	67. In Which We Discuss Romance

Chapter 71: In Which We Discuss Romance

Several hours later, they were once again at the dinner table. Hermione was chewing away, as Severus sipped the wine. Both had been eating steadily, quietly, for the last several minutes before something from before she had seen the note came back into Hermione's mind.

"So, you said something about inspiration earlier."

Snape looked blankly at her. Then he remembered. "Oh, yes, it's kind of silly. I didn't know how to say it, and I was hoping that I'd find something you liked in one of your books. I was looking for something you thought was romantic."

"So you just flipped through my books?"

"I looked at the spines carefully to see which ones had been read more than the others. Then I just let them fall open, and read what came up."

"Oh, and then you found…"

"Yes, eighth book I opened, and I was rather surprised to find that."

"Why?"

"I don't know… I just never figured you for vampire porn."

"I prefer the term erotica."

He gave her a look that indicated the difference was moot. "There's a difference? Smut is smut."

"Yes, but it's rather well written smut, and it's got plot and characters and no one is demeaned. Ergo, not porn."

"It's smut."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Do you disapprove?"

"Well, no. Obviously. You found me happily reading away. I'll probably finish the damn thing tomorrow or the next day because, as you pointed out, it's got plot and characters, and it is rather well written. Any other well written smut-fests in your bookcase?"

"You'll just have to look and see." She licked a bit of sauce off of her fork and grinned salaciously at him.

"Hmp."

"See, the thing is, I prefer to watch romance and read smut. So, had you checked my DVD collection, you'd have hit gold."

"Really? Isn't that backwards?"

"You prefer to read romance and watch smut?"

"Watch smut, definitely, I'm not much for romance on any medium. Which is why I was looking through your books for inspiration, rather than head to my own."

"I like to watch the desire and the interplay of the characters. The tension building, that's fun to watch. Kissing, that's rather hot, too. Petting, right up my alley. But then the clothing comes off, and things jiggle and the motions are repetitive. And all I want to do is look away and giggle. By that point, if I was reading, the story would once more be focused on the desire, and how the characters feel, good stuff. But a movie really can't do that. So, watch romance and read smut."

Snape finished his last bite of spaghetti, and waited for her to do likewise. Then he offered her his hand and led her to her DVD collection.

"You'll have to help me, none of these look much like romances to me. Although I'm beginning to suspect you're a major Sean Bean fan." He gestured to one shelf that contained twenty-five or so Sean Bean films.

"Just to clarify: you want me to show you the movies I think are romantic?"

"Yes, purely for research purposes."

"Okay." Once again she had a brilliant smile on her face. "As to them not looking like romances, some of them are. I'll point them out. But, in general, I don't have much patience for straight romance. Each of these tales has a serious romantic sub-plot. Like these," she touched the Sharpe Series. "The first six are my favourites. Sharpe and Teresa, warriors, lovers, friends, who are torn apart and thrown back together by the war. The middle ones turn into 'Richard Sharpe, International Napoleonic Stud Puppy,' so I'm not as fond of them, but then the series wraps up with Ginny's favourites, Sharpe and Lucille."

"What happened to Teresa?"

"She's killed during the war."

"Oh."

She tossed a copy of Braveheart to him. "This is another one I love."

"I've seen this, great music." _Kind of sappy. Who tries to conquer England because his wife is killed? That's just silly._

Hermione ran her fingers over the Lord of the Rings boxed set. "Ginny's favourite is Lord of the Rings, Aragorn and Arwyn."

"I've seen those, too. Read the books when I was younger as well. These movies probably have my favourite romance as well."

"Really?" Hermione was deeply interested in the idea of Snape having a favourite romance.

"Yes, Faramir and Eowyn."

Hermione, who hadn't read the books, spent a moment trying to remember anything even vaguely romantic about the two of them. "Aren't they only onscreen together for about thirty seconds?"

"Exactly. It's perfect. If you've read the book, you know they get to know each other as they're healing up and eventually get married. All of the romance happens off screen." She swatted him and he laughed. "It's very well done, a nice light touch. I think a lot of men, myself included hate to watch 'romance' because it's beaten to death. No subtlety, nothing left to the imagination."

"This from the guy who prefers to watch his smut?"

"Well, there are some things I'd rather not leave to the imagination and breasts are at the top of that list. What's this one?" Snape asked, looking at the Nicholas Cage area of her collection.

"Captain Corelli's Mandolin. Ohhh… Great movie, even better book. That's one of the pure romances, at least the movie is, the book is… well the book is in a league of its own. We'll just have to sit down and watch this one day." She was grinning happily at the idea of sharing all of her favourite movies with Snape.

His expression did not look enthusiastic. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Did I just sign myself up to watch all of these? _

"So, I've noticed the Sean Bean theme, and now the Nicholas Cage theme." He touched City of Angels, Con Air, and The Rock.

"Yes, and you'll probably notice the Alan Rickman, Orlando Bloom, Ewan MacGregor, Hugh Laurie, and Jonny Depp sections as well. I've got them organized by who starred in them.

"Hmmm… any women?"

"Well, obviously there are all the co-stars in said movies, but when I'm watching a female actor she's usually not there for the romantic lead part. Emma Thompson's over on the other shelf, as well as Helen Mirim. I liked Sophie Marceau so much in Braveheart I got her other movies, except the James Bond one; I hate James Bond movies."

"Why?" Snape wasn't exactly a huge fan of Bond himself, but she seemed quite a bit more vehement than was necessary.

"They're just stupid. Q's funny, but I don't want to watch an hour and a half of dumb stuff with bad dialogue and lame character names just for three minutes in Q's laboratory."

"How many did Harry make you watch?"

"That noticeable, huh? Harry and George. We saw eight of the god-awful things in one day. I don't even remember why anymore, just the sheer boredom of hour after hour of those stupid movies."

"I'll remember not to make you watch any of them."

"Thanks. You've already seen Braveheart, so how about I toss Sharpe's Rifles into the DVD and you pop up some popcorn. I'll show you one of my favourite romances."

So it was, with a sense of trepidation, that Snape made the popcorn. As the music to the opening credits began, he began to relax. It couldn't be too sappy with that kind of music. An hour and a half later, he felt relieved. Yes, there had been some romance, but all in all it was a good movie. He was even looking forward to seeing the next one. But Hermione was yawning, and he was feeling somewhat sleepy himself.

So, instead of putting another DVD in the player, they went to bed, and cuddled into each other's arms, as he was drifting off to sleep he heard Hermione's voice.

"I think you're very romantic, too."


	68. In Which A Week Passes

72: In Which A Week Passes

Monday:

Snape's potion had forty-seven minutes to steep, so he decided on doing a bit of further research into the woman he was going to marry.

He went back to her DVD collection and began to seriously look at what was there. Most of them he had at least heard of, if not seen. Most of the ones he had seen were rather snappy little action flicks: high on plot and drama, low on thought provoking content. They were the cinematic equivalent of candy floss.

He then went and spent more time with her 'romantic' movies. He had developed a suspicion, and wanted to confirm it. After several minutes he was fairly sure what he suspected was true, but he didn't want to actually watch all the movies to find out for sure.

He flooed the Potters and got Harry.

"Have you watched most of Hermione's movies?"

"Most of them. Why?"

"Does she have any romances with a happy ending?"

Harry thought about it. "Corelli's Mandolin? Maybe. And once more, why?"

"I've been looking at her movies, and it seems like one of the lovers dies in all of them."

"Oh. Well, yes, I think that's true. I never noticed that before."

"Thanks, Harry." Snape was off. Harry backed away from the Floo feeling like he had just had a rather surreal experience.

Tuesday:

"I need the sappiest, fluffiest, happiest, most romantic movie you've got. And all the lovers have to survive the movie," Snape said standing at the counter of the local video store.

The girl standing behind the counter had looked bored when he walked in but brightened up considerably at his request.

"Well… You might try this one. Lots of fluff here." She handed him a copy of _Love Actually. _

Snape thought the title looked auspicious. Now came steeling himself to actually watching it. "No tragedy? True love galore?"

The shop girl was beaming now. "Not at all. Oh wait, get this one, too. Best true love story ever!" She handed him the _Princess Bride. _"It's a classic. Your girlfriend will love it."

"Do you wrap?"

"No. Sorry sir. You're on your own, there."

Snape left and took his purchases home. He transfigured a few sheets of writing paper into wrapping paper,and wrapped up the DVDs. He added a note.

_Here's to romance with a future!_

Wednesday:

"So, I keep working on my vows, and I just can't come up with anything I like as much as yours. Would you mind if I used yours as well?"

Snape looked up from his reading. "As you wish."

Hermione giggled and tossed a pillow at him.

Thursday:

"I've got menu ideas and a prototype for our invitations." Hermione entered the house with groceries and an envelope under her arm.

"Show me the prototype."

He looked down and saw:

_Hermione J. Granger and Severus Snape_

_Request the honour of your presence_

_At their wedding_

_At Alhana's Haven_

_On October 10, 2004 5:30 PM_

_Dinner reception to follow._

_RSVP by September 25th_

_Portkeys will be arranged. _

The font was elegant and clean. Not too many curlicues cluttering up the text. The paper was a pearl grey, the ink silver, and the border a deep, shiny hunter green. All in all, it was tasteful, refined, and rather pretty in handsome sort of way.

"I'd still love to have a middle initial to stick in your name."

He shook his head. "Looks good to me. Tell me about the food epiphany you had."

"There was a new baker at the market, and I notice she had these lovely little cupcakes. Try one." She fetched a small box and opened it. Four small cupcakes, each with a creamy white top sat inside. He picked one up and bit into it.

"Oh…" He chewed happily. "Oh, that's just lovely. Lemon cake, raspberry filling, and what's the icing?"

"Sweetened, whipped mascarpone."

"We no longer need a cake with a lemon filling. One of these big enough to feed everyone will do just fine."

"Good, I got her number and told her I'd probably be calling about a wedding cake version of this."

"Aren't we going to run into problems getting it to the wedding?"

"I hope not. She delivers, and I was thinking she could bring it here, after all, this is a muggle friendly house, and then we can move it ourselves."

"Once more, how? You don't want to try to apparate with it?"

"Oh no, it'd be a smushed mess. I was thinking of shrinking it down, putting it in a stabilization field, and having Arthur fly it over for us."

"On his broom?"

"In the Anglia."

"I thought he lost that in the Forbidden Forrest."

"He did. He's got a new one now."

"Oh, well, I guess that'll work."

Friday:

"I was thinking beef and pheasant," Hermione said while brushing her teeth.

"They'll be in season then." Snape slipped out of his pants and sat on the bed to pull off his socks.

"Exactly."

"Anything in particular you want to do with them?"

"Not yet. I'll talk to Kreacher. He'll have ideas."

Saturday:

Hermione paused _Love Actually_ and turned to Snape. "You know, you kind of look like Alan Rickman."

"I do not! He's what, twenty years older than I am?"

"I'm not saying you look sixtyish. Just similar eyes and mouth."

"Hmp. I do not look like that paunchy, little milquetoast," Snape muttered.

"How about Alan Rickman in Robin Hood?" Hermione asked.

"Better."

Sunday:

Snape was sitting at the dining table eating the last of his breakfast. Hermione sat next to him working on a crossword puzzle.

"Any thought to where you want to put your parents when they come up for the wedding?" he asked between bites.

"Oh God. No, I hadn't thought about that. Not here."

"I heartily second that." They sat quietly for a bit.

"We could fix up the house part at Alhana's Haven and have more than enough room for everyone to stay," Hermione said, but not with enthusiasm.

"That's quite the project."

"Well, I wasn't thinking of renovating it into a fully functional house. More as a space to put everyone for the night. Percy's been a dear about getting the Portkeys set up, so everyone will be able to come in the day before and leave the day after."

"We could just get a few hotel rooms, and make sure someone is in charge of apparating everyone back at the end of the night."

"Well, if you want to do it the easy way…" She was smiling.

"I think there's something to be said for the easy way."


	69. In Which We Get Wedding Suits

73: In Which We Get A Wedding Suit

_There are some places men just don't belong. And this is one of them! _Snape looked around the Patils' dress shop. Fabrics, fashion magazines, dress forms, and two identical smiling women surrounded him.

"I see Hermione got you to come," one of them (_Padma? Parvati? Hell, how am I supposed to have remembered which was which after all this time?) _said to him.

"Don't worry Mr Snape; we'll take good care of you. Come, sit, have a cup of tea, and let's talk suits." They led him to a desk towards the back of the store, plied him with tea, and began to pile pictures in front of him.

"Hello." The word echoed from the front, and much to his relief, Arthur and Ginny came back to join them. They all greeted each other.

"I hope you don't mind me crashing the party, but Hermione wanted someone to keep an eye on you, so I jumped at the chance. She's got the kids, and I've got some instructions on what to get you."

Snape raised an eyebrow, and both Patils looked interested as well.

"Instructions?" Parvati looked amused at the idea.

"Nothing too big, things like what flowers the guys will be wearing, and a reminder that Hermione hates yellow and orange."

Padma looked Snape up and down. "We wouldn't put yellow or orange on him."

"He'd look like a bleeding Halloween decoration," Parvati said.

"I concur. That's why no one has ever seen me in either of those colours."

"What kind of flowers?" Parvati asked.

"The women have black calla lilies, the men white roses."

"She sent you here to make sure that his suit matched something black or white?" Padma looked like she was about to laugh.

"She sent me to spy and report back."

"Well, then, let's get onto doing something for you to report back. We do however have a few rules for you Mr Snape. We have promised your beloved that we will not put you in black or in anything that can billow."

Arthur and Ginny both valiantly tried to keep from grinning and almost succeeded.

Once more Snape's eyebrow rose. _I haven't worn anything that billows since I was at Hogwarts! Okay, that one coat, and maybe that robe, but it's not like I do it all the time these days. _"We will keep buttons to a minimum, and the color has to actually make you look good." Padma took a sip of her tea, and her sister took over.

"That said. We've collected a selection of fabrics we think will suit you. We'd like you to go and pick one out for a suit, one for a vest and tie, and one for a shirt. We've also selected a collection of suit patterns that we think will do well with your physique. Once you've got fabrics, we'll measure you, and then we'll show you what the finished product will look like."

"Now get to it." Padma sent him off.

He and Ginny walked to the section of the shop the Patils had set up for him. Parvati grabbed Arthur and began to measure him. He heard them talking in the background about how the groom usually chooses the colours, and the best man wears a matching suit. Snape could see three distinct sections. Suit fabrics were in muted colours: greys, blues, greens, and a few maroons. The second sections he assumed was for shirting; the fabric was lighter weight, and the colours ranged from white to jewelled tones. The next section had to be for the vests: the same range of colours at the shirts, but in heavier, silkier, shinier fabrics, many with paisley patterns upon them.

"This could take hours," he said to Ginny.

"Let's make this as easy as possible then. What colours won't you wear?"

"Light blue, light green, any of the pastels." Ginny used her wand to remove them from the selections. Snape stared at what appeared to be a staggering array of fabric. "There's still too many. I usually buy off the rack."

Severus Snape, Master Spy, Potions Master, Teacher of Dunces, Man Who Survived Nagini's Kiss, looked like he wanted to curl into a ball and hide. The women looked at him and took pity. "Go look at the suit styles, we'll pick some colours for you," Padma said and began to put together collections for him.

Snape flipped listlessly through the pictures. They all looked pretty much the same to him. He could see that some of the suits had two buttons, some had three, some were cut a little tighter, some a little looser. _They're all pretty much the same. Jacket, trousers, shirt, vest, and tie. Maybe I need to try and convince Hermione she really does want to apparate back to Vegas and get this done in out street clothing. _He was brought out of his thoughts by one of the Patil twins coming back to him.

"We've got the fabrics set. Let's see what you think," Padma told him, and then led him back to the section of the store that until moments ago had been filled with fabrics.

"We each picked a color palette for you. Now you pick the one you like best," Ginny told him.

He looked at the colours and began to feel relived. Each of the women seemed to know what she was doing. A dove gray suit weight fabric, charcoal gray shirting, and scarlet and silver patterned silk for the vest and tie made up the first selection. Next to it sat a navy suiting, a white shirt fabric, and cerulean tie and vest with a very thin maroon pinstripe. Finally a suit of hunter green, with a cream shirt, and a slightly darker cream vest and tie.

He felt torn between the gray and the hunter. He liked blue, but he liked the other two better. "Can I see what the green and the gray would look like put together?"

"Certainly," replied Parvati. She finished up Arthur and showed Snape to the raised area in front of the mirrors. "We've got to get you measured." Measuring tapes began to float about him, measuring him more thoroughly than any time since the morning he went to Olivander's. Behind him in the mirror he saw Arthur studying one of the sewing machines with great interest.

"I think you'd look better with a three button suit," Padma said to him, and as he looked at the mirror one of the suits he had glanced at appeared on him. Then with a swish of her wand it changed from black to hunter green.

"That looks really good." He liked the green and cream. It made him look less sallow.

"I'll look like a Christmas tree in a green suit with red hair," Arthur said, looking up from his examination of a sewing machine.

"Sorry Dad, I forgot this would have to look good on you, too. Try the other one," Ginny added.

The colours changed and now he was in the gray suit; that looked good too. _Now what? Get two? You can't wear both of them to the wedding, and it's not like you'll need two suits for much else. _He looked at Ginny. "Did you have this much trouble picking out Hermione's gown?"

She smiled at him. "Nope. We've pretty much learned to let the ladies do what they want with us. It always looks fabulous."

"Speaking of which, Padma, switch to 34-c," Parvati called to her sister while looking critically at Severus. A new suit appeared, and the colours rapidly switched to the greys. Parvati walked around him, and then began to speak, "This is a much better cut, it makes your shoulders look broader, waist trimmer, and legs longer. You should stay with this style."

Snape thought he looked good. He though he had looked good in the first choice, but now he could see this one was better. "How can you tell?"

Parvati looked at him curiously. "Tell what?"

"How can you know what will look better on me by looking at the picture?" He saw a smile form on her face, an evil smile, and could sense the retort she wanted to say, something along the lines of any dunderhead could see what would look better on someone, just like any moron could brew a potion from one read of the ingredients list, but she didn't say it out loud.

"It's a skill. The more you practice, the better you get," she answered.

"Ahh… So, my friend tells me you are an expert at what looks best, so which should I choose, green or gray?"

"Get them both. They both suit you, but wear the gray to the wedding. It'll look better on you and Arthur. Wear the green the next time you take Hermione somewhere nice," Parvati answered.

Padma added one last instruction, "Wear the vest if it's a really nice place and just the tie if it's kind of casual. Come on Mr Weasley, let's get you back up here and pick the style that will look best on you. I'm thinking we'll go with the same general shape as Mr Snape's suit, but not quite so slim a cut…"

Which is how Severus Snape ended up with two suits, and Patils' Pretties added menswear to their list of services.


	70. In Which Hermione Returns To School

74: In Which Hermione Returns to School

Snape was already in bed when Hermione slipped in. He wasn't asleep, however.

"How does this year's crop of dunderheads look?"

Hermione settled into his arms and sighed. "Pretty good, all things considered. Somewhat smaller than usual: only thirty-two children. That'll keep up until we get to Teddy's year where it bottoms out at thirteen. We're already starting to talk about putting the different years together for elective classes, and offering more of them."

Snape rose onto his one elbow to look at Hermione. "The class of 2009 has thirteen students in it?"

"More than half of which belong to long-time Slytherin Death Eater compliant families. No one else was in a 'let's have babies' kind of mood once word of Voldemort's return got out. 2010's not much better, with eighteen. And just to make things more interesting, once we've gotten used to mini-classes and how to deal with them 2015 will come along with a projected class of sixty-five."

"Good thing it's a magical castle."

"It'll make fitting them all into the place easier, but we'll be hurting for professors in eleven years."

"Anything interesting out of the Sorting Hat this year?"

"Blessedly, no. It did its usual brief history of Hogwarts routine, and then sorted the kids. Nothing ominous. Of course, there was the bit where Sybil stood up and told the entire assembly in a really low, creepy voice that a new evil was afoot and we'd all better be wary about the hidden corruption that was undermining our way of life, but what's new about that? It did scare the first years; they needed a bit of reassurance that Sybil's always predicting death and destruction."

Snape chuckled. "Let me guess, 'A New Darkness spreads its wings across the plain/Flee we must or watch horror reign/Death is coming for us all/We must band together or one by one fall."

"Something like that. You're better with the rhyme scheme."

"Thanks. It just came to me." They continued to chuckle a bit over Sybil and her wacky prophecies, and went to sleep.

* * *

"Hello Class, I'm Professor Granger. Welcome to Arithmancy. I know there are many misconceptions about this class: 'wizard maths,' 'numerology,' 'divination for nerds,' none of them are correct. What we do in this class is learn to see the patterns in our world and how to use them.

"As such we need to begin with the language of Arithmancy, and that is numbers. Can anyone tell me what a number is?"

The third years looked stupefied. Of course they knew what a number was. Why would anyone ask what a number was? It was so patently obvious what a number was that none of them raised a hand to attempt to answer the question. Hermione watched her new Arithmancy students do this every year. And every year, rather than embarrass one of them by making him answer, she continued on with her speech.

"A number is a symbol. It is an agreed upon shorthand so that we can communicate with each other more efficiently. That said; let us begin to study the symbols that created the symbols we now use, to gather more information about what these symbols want to tell us…"

* * *

Severus looked at his kitchen. Four months ago he would have walked in, grabbed his pans and ingredients, and gotten to making himself dinner. Now he was staring at his counter, feeling lonely. He hadn't eaten dinner alone for a few months, and he had gotten used to having someone around to chat over his day's experiences.

_Get over it! She'll be home the day after tomorrow evening. Wednesday night home, and then more rounds Thursday night. Which means lots of solo nights this year... At least she's got the weekends off. _

He began to get food out of the fridge and realized he had taken too much. He put her portion back.

_You did this every night for years. It's not that hard._

He found his rhythm again. His hands remembered how to cook for just him, even if his heart didn't want to.

Once his dinner was cooked, he settled in front of the television and allowed it to lull him into contented, unaware numbness.

Later that night, after he settled himself into bed, he found himself missing her warmth and slight sounds.

_Just four months. It's only been four months since she slept here the first time. _He flipped over onto his stomach, hoping sleep would visit him more easily in that position. But it didn't come. He was awake and cranky.

_This is why Hogwarts' Professors shouldn't get married. Too damn many nights sleeping alone! I bet Ginny's got some choice words on that subject as well. Maybe we'll have to discuss it sometime. Sometime when the Golden Duo is off at school…_

Severus stretched and tried to think sleepy thoughts. It didn't help.

_I suppose she wouldn't be thrilled if I told her she had to quit her job and sleep with me._

He shifted to his side, slightly more comfortable, but still no closer to sleep.

_She's on rounds until one. _He looked up at the clock. Three hours until she'd be done.

_You could Floo to her room at the school, and sleep there with her. And be woken by her when she gets to bed late, and woken again when she wakes early. Which would be why you told her you'd stay here. Yes, but that was based on the assumption that you'd sleep better here. No point in staying here if all I'm going to do is count sheep._

He flicked on the lights with a wave of his wand and began to hunt through his closet. He still had his nightshirt from his professor days; he just didn't know where it was offhand. He looked from his closet to the door of his room. _Go starkers! You'll Floo right into her room. Who would see?_

_If you enter that castle naked, some apocalypse will hit requiring you to run about naked. Better not tempt fate. _

He began tossing clothing about. After several moments searching, which resulted in clothing strewn about the room, he said, "Bugger it." He grabbed a comfortable pair of trousers and his favourite jumper, and pulled them on. A moment later he had his floo power and favourite pillow in hand, and he was off to Hermione's office.

He entered her office and found it empty. He hadn't been in her personal rooms yet, but he hoped she wouldn't mind finding him curled up in her bed. _Hopefully she'll think it's cute._

He knew from his own days at Hogwarts that the book shelf on the left side of the office opened into the professor's personal rooms. He also knew that most of the staff didn't bother to ward them. The student's didn't know they were there, and to do so would indicate an abysmal level of trust in your colleagues.

His rooms had always had five kinds of wards. Mostly to keep Dumbledore out and to provide him with a moment's notice should a fellow Death Eater try to break into his rooms. His wards had only been triggered the one time, so he assumed no one other than Crouch Jr. had entered.

He gave Hermione's door a brief look over, sensing no magic. He grabbed the underside of the third shelf, gave it a quick squeeze, and said the proper word. The door opened for him.

The room was dark. "Lumos." And then it wasn't.

It was much like her office and her home. Light colours, clean, almost sever lines, and very little clutter. The bed was a single, but a few waves of his wand took care of that. He settled between the sheets, and inhaled deeply. They didn't smell like her, he had been hoping they would, but it was the first night she was staying at the castle that year.

He gave his pillow a fluff, left his wand glowing gently, so she wouldn't be shocked to find him in her bed in the dark, and settled in to sleep.

* * *

Hermione always thought the first day of rounds was the hardest. She knew she'd get back into the rhythm of short sleep three times a week and the boredom of pacing about the castle. But the first night was always the hardest. Now her eyelids were protesting as she returned from her shift, having been relieved by Neville.

"At least it's not the early shift." She shook her head. "Until tomorrow."

She paused outside her office. A very faint glow oozed from under the door. Her heart beat fast, and her wand was in hand as she eased the door open to find her office empty, the light coming from the open door to her rooms. Before entering the office, she cast 'Hominen revielo.' No one was in her office. A second spell checked the room for magics that shouldn't be there. None came up.

Her shoulders unhitched slightly. _Probably just Arnie making a second tour of his work, seeing that everything is ready for me. _Somehow that reassuring idea did little to take the edge off her danger sense. For a moment she was tempted to find Neville, two wands, especially if one of them belongs to Neville Longbottom, are better than one. _Yes, but if it is Arnie, you'll feel like a fool. _

She crept silently towards her room. If it wasn't Arnie, she didn't want to give herself away. She eased herself past the board on floor that always creaked, and then peeked through the door, using her bookshelf to provide cover for most of her body.

The sight that greeted her melted the stress out of her muscles. Snape was lying in her bed, his favourite pillow tucked under his head. She walked to his glowing wand, and shut the Lumos spell off. She shucked her robes quietly, and slipped into her pajamas. When she slid into bed, and cuddled around him, he sleepily said, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too." She kissed his shoulder. He sighed and snuggled closer into her arms.


	71. In Which Alhanna's Haven

75: In Which Alhanna's Haven Is Prepared

Harry apparated with a loud pop onto the grounds of Alhana's Haven. He saw Ginny, George, Angelina, Deirdre, Molly, and Arthur which told him he was the last one to arrive. Bill, Fleur, and Andromeda Tonks had the kids for the next five hours.

Between then and now, they had to get the house and chapel ready for a party.

Ginny called them all together. "We're here to get this place spiffed up. Hermione and Snape are getting married in twenty-one days, and tomorrow they are going to come here to start getting it ready for the wedding. They are expecting a mountain of work. We're going to give them an engagement party!

"George, since you did such a good job with the plant life for Bill's wedding and mine, you're on garden duty. Deirdre and her ten green fingers are with you. Mum, since you've forgotten more about cleaning spells than the rest of us ever learned, you've got the inside of the house. Angelina and I will provide you with back up. That leaves Dad and Harry with the chapel. The most important part on the chapel is to get the stained glass sparkling clean. They want to see colours streaming though those windows when the sun sets, so we're going to get it for them!"

The Weasley's broke up into their teams and got to work. Harry and Arthur surveyed their job. The stone was in beautiful condition. Its lines were still sharp; the carved details were vivid. However, Harry had the sinking suspicion that it probably didn't originally come with those distinctive black smears.

Once upon a time, the stained glass had been bright and beautiful. Ruby, amber, emerald, and sapphire hued glass had depicted flowers and angels. Now, hundreds of years of water spots from tens of thousands of rains drying had left them covered in a gray film.

But, no matter what Ginny said, what needed the most work was the wood. Harry could see the pews and altar had been lovingly carved by a master woodworker, but centuries open to the weather had left them tattered and rotting.

"You want the glass or the pews?" Harry asked Arthur, who was looking critically at the ceiling.

"Are we supposed to fix the roof?"

"Ginny didn't say anything about it."

"I don't like the way it looks. How about you start on the pews? I'm going to get a broom. I want a better look up there. The last thing we need is the roof coming down during the ceremony."

Harry walked up to the front of the church. There were twelve pews, two rows of six, and each one of them badly needed help. He sat in front of the first one and began the restoration spell. It was a complex spell that erased the effects of time on a specific non-living object. Each piece of wood needed to be restored individually, and each pew had a lot of pieces. Harry figured that the next three hours would get the pews done. Three less then fascinating hours of near total concentration.

Arthur found his broom, kicked off the ground, and began to really look at the roof. The part that had survived was a masterpiece of slate roofing. Four colours of slate worked into an intricate geometric pattern. However, he didn't like the way the beams under the roof looked.

He swooped down to George and told him to take a look and give him a second opinion.

George was back in a minute. "You're right Dad; the only thing holding that roof up is habit. The beams that aren't rotted all the way through are serving as a termite feast. That's the first thing that needs to be done, and fast. You get started. I'll get the others."

Arthur grabbed Harry. "We've got to get the roof fixed first, probably in the house as well. Grab your broom. We're restoring the beams."

In a matter of minutes, all seven of them were flying under the roof, working on restoring spells or levitation spells. Molly and Ginny kept the roof up while the other five brought the beams back to life. Between the seven of them, it took half an hour.

The roof of the house was in better condition. The interior walls had protected more of the beams, so only the bits open to the weather were in need of salvation. That took Molly, Angelina, and Ginny ten minutes. Once more, now without the danger of the wedding site collapsing on them, the Weasleys got back to work.

Arthur spent several moments eyeballing the floor of the chapel. He wasn't certain if it was a dirt floor, or if centuries of rotted debris had made it look like one. He started with a tentative vanishing spell in one of the corners, which confirmed that there was a stone floor under the dirt. A scourgify caused him to inhale sharply. He aimed another one at the wall a few inches above the floor.

"Harry!"

Harry looked up from the plank he was restoring. The spell was rather fiddly, and if he didn't pay close enough attention to what he was doing he'd end up with a tree sitting in his lap instead of a brand new plank. "What?"

"Come here."

"Hold on." Harry finished the piece he was working on. "I'll never get these done at this rate," he muttered as he joined Arthur.

"Look," Arthur said. Harry glanced at the site Arthur pointed to. He inhaled sharply.

"Wow. That's beautiful."

"I'll say. The cleaning job just got bigger though."

"You can say that again." What Harry, and all the rest, had thought were streaky gray granite walls and a dirt floor, was in fact white marble with light pink and blue streaks.

"Harry, if you can get the pews and the altar off the floor, I'll get it cleaned up." Harry set to levitating the wood work, and went back to restoring his pew from atop his broom. Arthur began the task of vanishing centuries' worth of debris.

Harry had finished the second pew when he became aware of what was occurring beneath his feet. Arthur had finished the vanishing spells that had removed several inches of dirt off the floor and had scourgified the remaining stains off of the floor. Now he was using a polishing spell.

Most of the chapel's floor was the white marble, but down the aisle was an inlaid pattern of twining roses depicted in green, pink, and pale yellow stones.

"Who built this place?" Arthur asked in hushed awe as he looked at the shining clean floor.

"I don't know." Harry responded with an equally reverent voice. "Snape's got a story to go with it, but who knows if it's true?"

Arthur looked at the floor for another moment and then blinked hard. "You want help with the pews, or should I move onto the walls?"

"I'll take the help, this is rather dull work." Harry lowered the two finished pews to the floor, and moved onto a third one. Arthur walked to him, and took a place on the far end of the pew. They worked in silence for a few minutes.

"We heard about Sybil's prophecy over at the Ministry."

Harry made a non-committal grunt, as the leg of the pew he was working on slowly went from rotted hunk to shining wood.

"What do you think?"

Harry looked up. "That whoever let you guys know is not doing anyone any favours." Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm not an expert in these things, but from what I can see the only reason prophecies work is that they set the future in motion. They don't predict. They create. So these days, I hear a prophecy; I ignore it."

"It was worth ignoring?" Harry looked exasperated. "Look, I know you know what a real Trelawney prophecy sounds like. I also know that what you said makes sense. And, I also know that eight different kids sent notes to mum and dad about what they heard after the Sorting, and that there is literally no way to go about ignoring the damn thing, so to keep those mums and dads feeling safe and happy, I ended up with the job of investigating it. But, if in the course of my investigation, the only person who is currently alive who ever heard a true Trelawney Prophecy tells me it's a load of Leprechaun Gold, then I can report that, and it can go rest in peace."

"For the record, it's a stinking heap of Niffler dung."

"How about between you and me?" Harry had known his father-in-law more than half of his life. He could see the older man's concern for yet another horror on the horizon. He felt it himself when he heard Trelawney begin to speak.

Harry looked intensely at Arthur. "Embrace your inner Mad Eye. Constant Vigilance!"

* * *

Molly had levitated the carpet. Ginny and Angelina had set spells to beat the dust out of it. "Your brother Flooed yesterday. He had some news."

"Which one?" Ginny asked, squinting through the cloud of dust.

"Percy."

"What's Perce up to?" Angelina asked and then vanished the dust.

"He says Shackelbolt's talking about retiring at the end of his next term, and that he's on the short list of candidates to take his place."

Both of the younger women stopped moving and looked dumbfounded.

"He really did it?" Angelina asked, shock in her voice.

"2012. Percy could be Minister of Magic in 2012?" Ginny looked numb.

"It's not guaranteed, but it's possible. He'll be the youngest Minister ever if they do select him."

"He always talked about doing it, but I never thought… I mean, I just thought it was talk… No one thought he'd actually do it…" Ginny continued to ramble while Angelina refocused on Molly.

"How's Penny taking the news?"

"Over the moon, as you can imagine."

"I can imagine. She's wanted this as much, if not more, than he did."

"But he's too young," Ginny said, finally getting over some of the shock.

"He'll have been in eighteen years by that point. That gives him seniority on almost everyone."

"Not on dad."

"Your dad wouldn't touch that job with a ten foot pole."

"Can't say I'd blame him," Angelina said. "Bad hours, lots of stress, and not nearly enough power to make it worthwhile."

Molly let the carpet fall gently to the floor. "You can say that again. I never understood why Percy wanted it so much. But I'm glad it looks like he's going to get it."

* * *

George and Deirdre stood between the house and the chapel. He put an arm around his wife, kissed her on the cheek, and said, "Trust Snape and Hermione to pick a bloody wilderness for a wedding."

He wasn't far off in his description. Waist-high-grass tangled with weeds and brambles spread between and around the buildings. The trees may have been far off at one time, but the years had allowed the forest to come within ten meters of the buildings.

"What do you think? Leave the trees close, or clear them out a bit further back?"

Deirdre turned to look at the entire property. "Leave them for now, we can clear them out if need be. Let's see what's under this mess first."

They stood back to back and cast spells that sent the grass flying. Ten minutes had cut the grass back to a manageable length, and let them see what else needed to be done.

"If we reseed it, and the weather is helpful, this might just look like a lawn by the time they get married," Deirdre said, while poking a patch of naked earth. The ground around the buildings was no longer overgrown. It was mostly dirt, pocked with tufts of dry looking grass and very small trees.

"Or we could paint it green. It'd probably look about the same and be much easier."

"It's not that bad."

"It's not good." He grinned at her. "But we'll make it grow. Show me to the seeds, love."

* * *

Angelina thought she'd never get the dust out of her lungs. They'd been at it, one room at a time, for what she thought was hours, but she had the sinking suspicion that not quite as much time as she thought might have passed. But, as little as she enjoyed cleaning, she had to admit the company was pleasant, and they were making headway. The floors gleamed. The carpets were bright with their original colours. The cobwebs, dust bunnies, mice, and other less desirable creatures were gone. All in all, it was starting to look like somewhere you might, as long as you didn't mind the huge, gaping hole in the west side of the house, like to live.

Molly opened a new door. Ginny sneezed. Angelina coughed. "How you two keep house with such tender constitutions, I don't know," Molly said.

"The fact we both clean more than once a millennia might have something to do with it," Ginny quipped.

"Oh, it's been at least a millennium since I last cleaned. I cook and shop. George cleans. Deirdre's in charge of baby wrangling. Everyone's happy."

"So why is he out there with the weeds?" Molly asked Ginny.

"He said he wanted some outside time."

"Besides it's not like I hate to clean, but I prefer to cook, and George is better at it than either of us. Possibly something to do with growing up in your house." Molly looked pleased at the compliment.

"Speak of the Devil," Ginny said, gesturing behind her. George and Deirdre entered the house.

"Where?" George looked around franticly.

"Need another set of hands?" Deirdre asked.

"Always, pet." Angelina walked over and embraced both of them.

"What, aren't we going to show off our handy work?" George asked, looking faux alarmed.

"Yes, come take a look. See if you can tell you're in the same place."

Looking out the wrecked wall, Molly sharply inhaled, Ginny let out a low whistle, and Angelina gave both of them an extra squeeze.

"Lovely, just lovely," Molly whispered.

"It's not that much better, mum." George was looking a little embarrassed at all the praise.

"But it will be." She was smiling at him. "I know how it'll look when it comes in fully. By the time of the wedding this will be a lovely meadow ringed by flame leafed trees."

* * *

Snape balanced a book of cleaning spells on his arm. Hermione held his broom.

Molly looked at the book and sniffed. "Severus, there's nothing in there I can't show you how to do three time better. No need to bring that along." He smiled at her and put the book back on its shelf.

"I want to thank all of you for agreeing to help us with this," Hermione said to her adopted family.

Harry smiled at her. "No problem. You helped us with our wedding."

"And us with ours," Deirdre added.

"And what kind of Best Man doesn't help get the wedding site ready?" Arthur chimed in.

"I'll warn you, it's in pretty rough shape," Snape said.

"How bad can it be?" Molly asked with a grin.

"You'll see, Molly. It's pretty grotty," Hermione said with a sigh.

"Well, it's not getting any cleaner by us dithering here. Let's get going," Arthur said, herding his family toward the Portkey Percy had set up for the day.

A moment later, they arrived. Hermione looked around, blinked, and looked around again. The chapel was a soft white color instead of the gray she remembered. The grounds were patchy and bare in some places, but the weeds were gone, the tree line was tamed, and as she looked closer, millions of tiny blades of grass were beginning to poke through the soil. The house looked almost liveable, and sounds were echoing from it. She looked at Snape and saw what she imagined was a very similar look of shock to the one she was wearing. She noticed all the others holding their faces very carefully. George broke out laughing first.

"I wish you two could see your faces."

Harry hugged Hermione, and Ginny hugged a rather stiff Snape. "Happy wedding you two. There's one more surprise. Come into the house." Ginny pulled the unresisting couple toward the house. Inside the rest of the Weasley clan waited.

"Happy Engagement!" they chorused.

"We wanted you to have an engagement party," Harry said, his arm around each of them.

"And we wanted you to have a very nice wedding present," Ginny added.

"So we came here yesterday and got the place cleaned up," Deirdre said while handing them each drinks.

"It's not perfect, yet, but you've got a lot less to do than you did yesterday," Angelina told them as she walked past them to the food.

"Come see the inside of the chapel. You won't believe what we found under the dirt." Arthur gestured.

"Let them have a moment to breathe, dear. We've given them a bit of a shock." Molly pushed the rest of the crowd back from Snape and Hermione. Almost thirty faces stared at them, waiting for a response.

"I… Thank you. This is just… Thank you." Snape still looked a bit flustered, but he was doing better than Hermione, who had started to cry softly.

She calmed down while Snape talked about how much work this must have been and how grateful he was. When he quieted she said, "I love you all. Thank you for making me part of your family. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for this, and for everything."

What followed would have been an enormous hug. But with almost thirty people, many of which were children, the group settled for many individual hugs. And eventually, after everyone was thanked, and hugged, and a few drinks were downed, and the tale of the proposal was told, Arthur was able to show off the new and improved grounds.


	72. In Which Loose Ends Are Tied

76: In Which We Tie Up Loose Ends

The party had wound down, and with the exception of Harry, Molly and Arthur, the rest of the Weasleys had gone home.

The three of them led Hermione and Snape back to the chapel. Earlier Arthur and Harry had showed off their handiwork, and Hermione had oohed and ahhed over the transformed chapel. Now, as they returned, Arthur said, "We left one part of the chapel for you two."

"It seemed fitting for you to do this," Harry said as he walked them to the disillusioned altar, and ended the spell on it. It came into view and both Snape and Hermione studied it. Unlike the rest of the chapel, the altar was in its original state of aged disrepair.

First and foremost Hermione could see it had once been an object of great beauty and reverence. The wood work had rotted, but the stone was still sharply carved, and the filigree gold was still visible, if somewhat askew because it was no longer anchored to the wood.

She looked at the stone, images of a woman and a man, clearly lovers, in a garden. There were three panels, and each panel had something written on it.

"Is that Latin?" Hermione asked, her fingers centimetres from the inscription.

Snape, who had been focusing on the woodwork of the altar, glanced at the writing and nodded. "Yes. The centre one says, 'My beloved is mine and I am his.' The left one is 'Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm: for love is as strong as death.' And the right one says, 'Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it."

"How sweet," Hermione breathed. "When did you learn Latin?"

"1983. You can't really be a Potions Master without it. If you can't read Latin, you can't read anything written on the subject before 1600."

"Oh."

Molly was shaking her head. "As well read as you two are and neither of you know what this is, do you?" They both looked somewhat sheepish. "It's the Bible. Song of Songs. Some of the oldest and best love poetry around. If you don't have a Bible in your house, borrow ours and give it a read. It's short and lovely."

"We have a Bible." Snape and Molly looked surprised to hear Hermione that.

"I have a Bible, and it moved in with me," Hermione said to Snape.

"Huh…" Snape turned to look at the altar again. "It is lovely."

"We'll leave you to it then," Arthur said, and led his wife and son-in-law out of the chapel.

Snape walked behind Hermione, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his head upon hers. "Do we even want an altar in our wedding?"

"There is something sacrilegious about us using it. But I don't want to just leave it like it is."

"So we'll restore it but not use it?" Severus asked.

"I think that's the best course here. This was designed to celebrate rites we don't intend to honour."

"So was the chapel."

"Erg. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't notice that. Perhaps I could say: my hypocrisy knows some bounds."

"I can live with that." And with that they began the restoration.

* * *

A week later, Hermione Flooed Percy. He invited her into his study where large mounds of paperwork decorated every horizontal surface.

"It never lets up does it?"

"Not if I want to make Minister before forty."

"Congrats on that. I just heard that that's become much more likely."

"Likely but not certain. There is still a lot of work to do between now and then. But I don't think that's why you're here. What can I do for you?" Percy smiled precisely at her. Hermione wondered if Percy always sounded so prim. Did he ever break loose, like when playing with his kids or alone with his wives?

"I need you to let me bring a vampire into the country for the wedding." She smiled back at him, hoping that her outrageous request didn't sound as bad to him as it did to her.

His eyes got rather large. "A vampire?"

"A good vampire. He's a dear friend, and he hasn't eaten anyone in a very long time."

"Well, that's different then. I'll just let the Department of Dangerous Magical Creatures know that he's a _good_ vampire, and all will be well." His voice was very dry, and Hermione couldn't quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

"You're being sarcastic aren't you?"

"Of course I'm being sarcastic! No one wants any vampires in this country, good, bad, or indifferent."

"What if I told you I was willing to pay you for the favour?"

Percy looked intrigued. "What coin can you offer?"

"A wedding picture and a glowing interview to the Prophet about how well the Marriage Act worked out for me."

Percy thought about it for a long time. She could almost see him counting up the value of the good press having a national hero endorse his plan versus the amount of favours he would have to grant in return for getting Spike into the country.

"I don't know if I can do it, but if I can, we're on."

"Good, I'll need a portkey to get them here also."

"Oh, a portkey, too. What do you mean them? Where is your vampire coming from?"

"New Orleans. They are Spike, his girlfriend Buffy, Willow, who I've told you about, and her friend Xander. If I remember correctly, you had some interest in talking with Willow about magic in the States."

"I did. Aren't they in Ohio?"

"They were. They finished the move this week."

"Oh. Getting the portkey won't be hard. When do you want them to come into town?"

"The wedding's on the tenth. How about the seventh? That'll give them time to get used to England, spend a little time sightseeing, and they'll be here for all the fun."

"I'll let you know when I know."

"Thanks, Perce. I'll make sure the picture is really pretty!"

* * *

"I talked to your mum today," Snape said as they sat in her office at Hogwarts, him on her sofa, her in his lap. She was between rounds, grabbing a few minutes to snuggle with her honey before heading back out into the castle to stop the students from doing just that. Sometimes it was very good to be an adult.

"That must have been fun."

"It was polite."

"Well, I suppose that's a start. What did she have to say?"

"They are coming. The plane tickets arrived today. I once more tried to get them to accept a portkey, but they'd rather fly. They approve of the hotel we booked for them. Your mum is very much looking forward to seeing our home."

"That'll be interesting. Hopefully the garden will keep her from noticing our lack of recycling bins."

Snape looked puzzled. "Why would we recycle? We can just vanish things. No landfill problems."

"She'd not be thrilled about us just vanishing things. It's wasteful."

"Oh. We can get recycling bins if you think it'll prevent arguments."

"If it's not that, it'll be something else. Might as well have an easily fixed neutral topic." She was shaking her head.

"You know, when I was first thinking about you and I, I thought the Weasleys would be the hard part. But your parents are like playing Quiddich, just when I think I know what's going on, a bludger comes out from nowhere and hits me upside the head."

"You and me both love, you and me both."

* * *

Hermione returned home, thanking all that was good and holy that she didn't have rounds that night. Her day had been long and wretched, starting with a staining potion fight at lunch that left everyone covered in dark blue and bright pink splotches. She had been assured said blue splotch would fade from her face in less than twenty-four hours. If not, she was going to personally perform all of the unforgiveable curses on the perpetrator. Then, because walking about with half of her face stained blue wasn't enough aggravation for one day, she had received a howler from the mother of one of her seventh year students screaming about how awful and dangerous wandless magic was, and what on earth had possessed her to start teaching it to children. She had debated how to respond, and finally decided to just let it lie.

When she stepped through the floo, she found the house empty. Severus was probably still in his lab. She shrugged off her robes and flopped into her favourite chair. For several moments she just sat there and let her mind wander. Finally she got up, and walked across their home toward the garden and his lab.

As she was passing the kitchen something caught her eye. Sitting on the dinner table was a prettily wrapped package. She went to it, and saw that the envelope was unopened as yet. Curiosity burned through her. Who sent it? What was their first wedding present?

She increased her pace toward Snape's lab. When she entered, she did so quietly. It wouldn't do to disturb him, not when a second of inattention could prove disastrous. She stood inside the doorway, waiting for him to notice her.

He put the flask he had been eyeballing down. "Would you call this sapphire or cerulean blue?"

She looked at it. "I have no idea. It's blue, deep blue. Can I give you a hug?"

He turned to look at her and his eyes widened, but he refrained from commenting on her new look. "Better not, I'm covered in fyr vapour. Let me get a shower, and I'll join you in a few minutes."

"Sounds good." He apparated to their shower, and she returned to the kitchen.

He found her looking through the fridge.

"Any idea what you want for dinner?" she asked him.

"Not a clue. How about we go out?"

She looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. "The stain is glamour proof. Otherwise I wouldn't be walking about with it visible on my face."

"Take away then? I'll get it."

"Lovely. I want to open this first." She closed the fridge and gestured to the present.

"Good, I've been waiting for you to get home so we could." She snagged the card, and he began to rip off the paper.

"It's from Arthur and Molly," Hermione said as Snape lifted a very modern looking black clock out of the packaging. It matched the décor of their house. Snape squinted at it.

"That's the oddest clock I've ever seen."

"It's a family clock." Hermione slid around the table, and looked at the face of the clock. And, just like the one at the Burrow, this clock had no numbers, just places and conditions, and two hands, one that said Hermione, and one that said Severus, both of which were pointing toward 'Home.' Hermione smiled widely.

"Weasley family tradition, each new couple gets one of these for their wedding. That's when I knew I was really one of the Weasleys; shortly after the war ended they added me to their clock. At this point they've had to disable it. Each new spouse and grandbaby added a hand, and by last year it had so many hands it couldn't be read anymore. I think Molly's replaced it with one of those enchanted family trees, kind of like the one at Harry's."

"So each of our kids will add another hand to this one?"

"Yep, one nice and tidy way to keep track of everyone."

Snape took the clock and walked to the fireplace, he placed it upon the mantle. "How does it look over here?"

"I like it."

* * *

Sunday morning, six days until the wedding, Snape and Hermione were sitting at the breakfast table. An owl pecked at the window. Severus opened the window, paid the owl, and took the copy of the Prophet.

"Oh, God!" He grimaced.

"How bad is it?"

"I hope you really, really like Spike." He handed her the paper. 'Lighting Strikes Twice' was the headline over a smiling picture of her. She had made sure Rita Skeeter didn't do the interview, but as she read on, she had the sinking suspicion that Daphne Greengrass had learned to write from the woman.

_Hermione Granger, Heroine of Vold War II, Best Friend of Harry Potter, has found love again. After seven years of mourning for her first love, Ronald Weasley, who was killed protecting her during the now famous Horcrux Hunt, Hermione Granger has found love again._

_Thanks to the controversial Marriage Act of 2004, Hermione was faced with an awful choice, leave Britain and her job at Hogwarts, or face a loveless marriage of convenience. At least, that's how she thought it would work. Little did she suspect that something great awaited her._

'_I filled out my paperwork, and was astonished to see Severus Snape was my best match.' From there the young witch decided to take a chance, a chance at new love, and a new life…_

"Oh God." She buried her head in her hands. "It's so sappy. 'I'd have never taken the chance if the law hadn't forced me.' 'I've been so blessed to have found a love like this twice.' I didn't say that!" Her eyes skimmed the paragraphs, and she visibly winced several times. "They better have one hell of a great wedding present..." she muttered under her breath.

"You know what they say, if you dance with the devil, you don't get to pick the tune. I still think we could have come up with some sort of way to evade the magical tracking spells."

"I know, and trust me, your idea is looking better by the second. Next time I want to do something highly illegal, I'll take your advice and find a way to do it without calling in any favours from the Ministry."


	73. In Which The Guests Begin To Arrive

77: In Which Guests Begin Arriving

"All set?" Xander paced around his living room, looking for any last minute item they may have forgotten.

"Xander, you've asked me that three times already. Trust me, we're set," Willow told her friend. "All that's left now is waiting for Spike and Buffy, grabbing the book, and then settling in for ninety minutes of magical travel."

"You've got the presents and the luggage."

"I've got it all. And even if I don't, I'm sure we can buy new stuff when we get there. I've heard rumours that one can get clothing and toothbrushes in England."

"But what if I want something tweed free?"

Spike clapped a hand on Xander's shoulder, and Xander jumped. "Trust me mate, there is tweed free clothing in England. Just because every time Giles comes back he's covered in more of it, doesn't mean it's all that's there."

Xander spun to face Spike and Buffy. "Okay, first, you guys have got to make more noise when you enter my house. I lose a year of my life each time you creep up on me like that. Second, what happened to you? Did you borrow that outfit from Giles?" Xander gestured to Spike's now mousy brownish locks and remarkably conservative outfit.

"I think this is my natural hair color, I think." He and Buffy had spent close to an hour in the grocery store looking at boxes of hair dye, debating which one they thought was likely to be closest to his natural shade.

"I can understand that, but why did you change back?"

"From what Snape said, Hermione put herself out to get me permission to go home. So, while I'm there, I may as well try not to shock my hosts too badly. Maybe, if I'm on good behaviour, I'll be able to get a return invite. I'd like a chance to really show Buffy my old haunts."

"For which his hair may go blue and black and some ratty, punky clothing will be involved."

"All part of the charm love, all part of the charm." Spike grinned at her.

"Hurry up and get over here. The portkey will go off in a minute," Willow said. The four Americans grew quiet and each grabbed a corner of a copy of _Fodor's Great Britain_. After ten seconds the feeling of being yanked from behind the navel hit them, and their trip had begun.

* * *

"I hate flying." Robert Granger sat in the lounge of Qantas.

"We didn't have to fly," Jean said pointedly.

"I know, but I like the other method even less. At least this way I've got a bag to be sick in."

"It won't be that bad. You'll take your meds, go to sleep, and in a few hours we'll be in Singapore. We'll get some food, stretch our legs, then get back on the plane, and head for London. You'll get some more sleep, and you'll be nice and rested by the time we're home. It'll be nice to see home."

"It will be nice. Good to see our families."

"Better to see our friends." Jean smiled at him. Both of them knew from long experience that seeing their families would probably involve an unpleasant moment or three, but their friends, now that would be pure joy.

"I can't believe our daughter is getting married."

"Me neither. Are you excited?"

"Of course. You?" Robert had been wondering about this since they received the news that Hermione was engaged, but this was the first good opportunity to ask.

"Certainly. Not so sure about her man, though." Jean sighed. Robert sighed with her. What they had seen so far hadn't been too bad, but Mr Snape was not what they had been hoping for.

"Hopefully we'll like him better as we get to know him more."

"Hopefully."

Words slightly distorted from the loudspeaker reached them. "I think that's our call," Jean said.

"I think you're right." Robert Granger stood, fumbled in his pocket, found the pill he was looking for and dry swallowed it. "I hope I'm asleep fast."

"You'll be fine, dear." Jean Granger took his hand, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

* * *

"When are they all due?" Ginny asked. She looked up from the sketch of an eight stringed Celtic knot tattoo she was designing for Hermione and Snape.

Hermione looked away from her friend's drawing to the clock. "Willow, Spike, Buffy and Xander should have left about an hour ago. My parent's plane gets in at 8:10. Although the last time I checked it showed that they were already delayed. Who knows what time they'll actually be in?" Severus put his hand on her shoulder. Her tension level had been increasing as her parent's arrival got closer and closer.

"So, what do you think?" Ginny finished connecting the last line of the knot.

"It's excellent," Snape said.

"Just perfect, Ginny," Hermione told her.

"So, all we need to do now is color it."

"Oh." Snape looked unsure of himself. "I rather like it black and white." Ginny took that in and looked at her sketch again.

"How about this?" She left six of the lines uncoloured, and then shaded one line to a rich, vibrant crimson, and the other to a deep forest green. The effect was a solid band with little flashes of color.

"Ginny, can you make the other strands metallic looking?"

"I don't see why not."

"Make them silver and gold, three of each. After all, usually this would be jewellery, with these colours it'll look like a torque."

"Aren't torques worn on the neck?" Severus asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It'll be a wrist torque. A two dimensional, tattooed, wrist torque."

"Feeling a little nervous?" Ginny asked as soon as she changed the colours.

"Yes, I'm sorry. That was a bit snappish wasn't it?"

"Just a tad," Severus said. He looked at the image for a long time. "I still like it better black and white with just a hint of color."

"What if I made all the other bands silvery?" The gold lines vanished and were replaced with silver.

"That's better," Severus said.

"I love it."

"Do we have a wedding two-dimensional wrist torque?" Ginny asked.

Hermione grinned. Snape gave his eyes a gentle roll, and then smiled as well. "I think we do."

Hermione kept checking her watch.

"They'll be here soon enough. Checking your watch won't make them come any sooner."

"I know, but I'm anxious to see them."

"Me too."

"It was very nice of McGonagall to give you these days off." Snape was looking for any topic to get Hermione to quit pacing and checking her watch.

"She didn't want to, but she gave Neville two days off for each of his weddings, so she had to follow the precedent." Hermione checked her watch again.

_Well conversation didn't work._ Severus gently took a hold of her shoulder, and kissed her deeply.

Which is why Buffy, Spike, Xander, and Willow were treated to the sight of them snogging away as their first glimpse of England.

"Uggh, I know you're about to get married and all, but please, get a room," Xander said when his vision stopped spinning.

"And here I thought you were a closet voyeur. I had put on the show especially for you," Hermione quipped, while breaking free of Severus and heading over to hug her friends.

"You, I don't mind so much. Him…" Xander gave Severus a playful slap on the back, and then a friendly handshake.

Severus introduced Ginny to the group, and wrapped up with, "So, what can we do for you? Do you want to get something to eat, or head to your hotel?"

"How about just stand still until the trip wears off?" Buffy asked, looking slightly green.

"Long distance portkey not your favourite mode of transport?" Hermione asked while going into the kitchen and fetching four drinks. "Drink up. It'll help settle you." They did so, and the four of them immediately looked better.

"I like the new look, Spike," Hermione said.

"Don't get too used to it. I'm hoping to get your brother-in-law to let me come back."

"That's actually a pretty good first step. Use your Oxford accent and agree with anything he says to you, and you'll probably get it."

"That easy?"

"Well, maybe not that easy, but he's a political animal, and the possibility of useful allies always makes him happy. Having a Vampire, a Slayer, and their American buddies thinking well of him, or even better, owing him a favour, is something he'd like."

In a soft, mumbled voice, Xander said, "Someday, and this day may never come, I'll call upon you to do a service for me. But, until that day, accept this as a gift on my sister-in-laws wedding day."

The Americans burst out laughing. Snape, Hermione, and Ginny looked perplexed. Spike explained, "It's a line from a movie. Next time you come to the States we'll show it to you. Great flick. So what was that you said about food? Could real fish and chips be in the offing?"

"Real fish and chips, bangers and mash, a pint or three, hell, we can get you haggis if your tastes run that way."

"Ohhhh… so many choices. It's so good to be back."

After a wonderful meal and happy conversation, much of which centered on the move to the New Orleans branch of the Watcher's Council, they got the Americans settled into their hotel and left for Heathrow. Hermione had made sure to carry a flask of the same potion she had given her friends earlier in the day. Robert Granger was likely to be green with motion sickness by the time he got off the plane.

They had prearranged a spot to meet, and now all that was left was the waiting. Hermione kept her eyes moving over and through the crowd, looking for the familiar forms of her parents. After several moments she caught sight of her father's hair, and began to wave.

"Hello!" She hugged her mum first, while her father and Severus shook hands, neither man smiled, but there was no outright hostility either.

"Here Dad, take a drink of this." She handed him the flask of stomach settling juice, he drank, and looked much better after a second. Now he was smiling.

"You must make sure I get some of that to take home with me."

"Not a problem, dad. Keep the flask. It's got about five doses left in it. Just take a sip as needed. It's one of Severus' concoctions."

"Thank you, Severus. This has been very helpful."

"You're welcome. It's a slightly modified version of the anti-nausea potion. It's not quite as strong and specifically designed to help with motion sickness."

"Well, whatever it is, it's a lifesaver. Besides thinking it's the middle of the night, I'm feeling almost human."

"Speaking of the middle of the night, would you like us to take you to your hotel, or you could see our place, or go get something to eat? Take your pick, neither of us has anything to do until tomorrow morning."

Robert Granger perked up. "Food, a hot shower, and a lay down in a real bed. Preferably in that order. Is Henley's still open?"

"Yes it is Dad. Mum will that suit you?"

"Certainly. Let's go get the luggage, and then we'll get some food."


	74. In Which We Procure Glorious New Finery

Chapter 78: In Which We Gather Our Glorious New Finery

October 8th, 8:00 AM The Granger-Snape House

Ginny was over bright and early with the sketch of the wedding tattoo. Snape looked sleepy and tousled, Hermione rather bright and fresh. This may have had something to do with the fact that for her, it was a morning where she had two extra hours of sleep, whereas for him, it was a day where he had to get up an hour early.

Snape eagerly drank his coffee while Ginny explained how her tattoo spell worked.

"Usually, when I do a tattoo spell, I draw the tattoo, and then say 'Duco charta' with this motion." She waved her wand over the drawing on the paper. "Then, I say, 'Duco dermis' and perform the same motion over the skin." She took Snape's arm and did the motion with her wand again. The tattoo appeared on his wrist. His eyes widened.

"Don't worry, it's not permanent. This time tomorrow it'll be gone. So, all we need to figure out how to do is set this up so it works with your vows."

"All we need to do…" Hermione said wryly. "Well, what we want to happen is for each vow to create a line in the tattoo."

"Which means this isn't going to work. At least, not the way I do it," Ginny said.

"We can do magic with or without a wand. Let's combine the two," Snape said, eyes warm. "We'll use our wands for the binding. That's established magic, and it's usually cast non-verbally. We'll mark each other without the wands. If we can't quite get it, Willow can help, but I think…" He stood up and went to the fridge. A moment later he returned with a chicken breast. "We can do it. I don't want to practice on one of us in case this is permanent." He stared at the tattoo Ginny had placed on his wrist for a long time, at least five minutes, memorizing it's lines and curves, the over and under of each intersection. Then he focused on the piece of chicken. One after another each line of Ginny's design graced the chicken.

"If we practice, we should be able to get the timing down well enough to do this." He touched his wand to the chicken breast and it glowed for a second, then another copy of the tattoo ended up on the chicken breast. "The timing was a little off, but you see what I mean. The glow from the Unbreakable Vow will look like it created the line of the tattoo." Severus looked quite satisfied.

"Who knew you were such a showman?" Ginny asked.

He cocked an eyebrow at Ginny. "I'm sorry, weren't you in my Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts class? I've got a memory of a certain little girl with bright red hair and I Luv Harry Potter doodled in what she thought was invisible ink in her textbook. Maybe it was someone else? But, I'm sure if you had been in my class you would have noticed a certain flair for costuming, voice, and subject matter."

"I always thought you didn't own a mirror and were cranky due to lack of sex. I never dreamed that anyone would choose that persona as an act."

Snape glared at her. Ginny smiled back, with what Hermione considered the Innocent Weasley Look Number Two. Then they both laughed.

"You might have something with that," Snape said.

October 8th, 10:30 AM Patils' Pretties

"Come on Hermione, get out here and let us see you," Willow called.

Ginny, Molly, Jean, Willow, and Buffy had all decided that they needed to come along with Hermione for her last bridal gown fitting.

"Give me a minute. The veil is being stubborn," Hermione replied.

"I'll go help." Ginny hopped up and joined her friend.

The other four women sat on the sofas conjured by the Patils and chatted with them about the wedding.

Ginny slid into the fitting room and sighed softly. She had seen Hermione in the dress over the course of her two other fittings, but it still made happy tears come to her eyes.

"You look so lovely, Hermione."

"Thanks, Ginny. Can you help me get this pinned properly?" Hermione gestured to the tiara on her veil.

"Sure, bend your knees a bit so I'm not working over my head." In a moment she was finished. Hermione stood up and looked at herself in the mirror.

"It's pretty good isn't it?"

"Oh, Hermione." Ginny swatted her friend on the arm. "You look perfect. Let's go show the others."

When Hermione stepped out of the changing room most of the women went silent. Molly Weasley gasped loudly and said, "How pretty!"

Once Hermione was standing on the platform in front of the mirrors both of the Patils came over to critically check their work. It was almost perfect, a slight tuck here, a little gather there, and it was done. As they pulled back the other women came closer.

Ohhs and Ahhs enveloped Hermione. Even Jean looked impressed.

"I like the green," Jean said, gesturing to the tiny, sparkly green crystals that adorned the bodice of the dress and the hem of Hermione's veil. "I always thought you looked lovely in green."

"Thanks mum." Hermione gave a little twirl, watching as the dress spun around her. "It's real isn't it?"

"It's real and it's gorgeous," Buffy answered, something akin to envy in her voice.

"Thinking you might want one of these someday?" Willow asked Buffy while Hermione returned to the dressing room to change.

"Yeah, I just might. You ladies wouldn't happen to take long distance commissions?"

"No one's ever asked before, but I don't see why we couldn't," Padma answered.

"How about you, Willow? Any possibilities on the horizon?" Ginny asked.

"No, maybe someday, but not now. Got any hot brothers in the market?"

"Depends on how you feel about co-wives."

Willow shook her head. "Nah… I'm the jealous type."

Hermione re-emerged from the dressing room. "Any special instructions for the dress?"

"You might not want to apparate in it, besides that, no. Just be nice to it. We'll be at the wedding, so if you've got some sort of dress emergency we can fix it for you. So, we'll see you tomorrow night?" Parvati asked.

"Hen Party, tomorrow at eight. Our place. Mum's kind enough to take the kiddies for the night. Harry will be at whatever mischief Arthur and George have thought up for Severus. We've got the house to ourselves." Ginny's eyes sparkled.

October 8th, 2:30 PM Patils' Pretties

"Well Arthur?" Severus asked from his place in front of the mirrors.

"It suits you." Arthur smiled at his cleverness.

Severus rolled his eyes. Both of the Patil twins groaned. That was just possibly the worst pun they had heard in weeks. It was, however, true. The light gray suit was snug where a suit should be snug, loose where it should be loose, and a color that made its wearer's skin look bright and alive. (The extremely subtle glamour that Padma had enchanted it with actually provided the effect, but the color would have looked good on him without it.)

Parvati gave one last flick with her wand and a tiny thread snipped off of his left cuff. "I think we're done with you Severus. Let's get Arthur into his suit and finish him up."

Severus changed back into his street clothing, and Arthur vanished into the fitting room with his version of the suit. Several moments later Arthur emerged, looking positively fashionable.

"You know, there may be something to suits," he said looking at himself in the mirror, "I don't think I've looked this good in a robe since I was twenty."

"Our husbands have been saying it for years, 'Men belong in trousers'. Do you mind if we get a picture of you to put up on our wall of fame?" Padma asked while raising the hem of one cuff slightly.

"What, no shot of me?" Severus asked.

"You aren't a well known pure blood who wears muggle clothing once a decade." Snape nodded when Parvati said that. "Having a senior ministry official on our wall doesn't hurt either. Having one endorse suits for our menfolk is even better."

"You do know they still call me the 'Muggle Loving Nutter,' at the ministry?"

"Fine by me," Parvati answered.

"And me," Padma chimed in. "After all, we married muggles."

"In that case, I'll be happy to be on your 'Wall of Fame.'"

The Patils finished up with the suits, snapped a picture of Arthur, and the men left. As they were walking towards Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Arthur said, "So, tomorrow night, after the rehearsal dinner, you and the rest of the guys are supposed to come with me."

Snape smiled. "I remember. Stag party?"

"You'll just have to see. I have it on good authority that I'm supposed to make sure you don't get home tomorrow night, though."

"Won't Hermione worry?"

"No. We've got that taken care of. I understand Ginny has something planned."

"Oh my."

"Exactly."

October 8th, 4:30 PM The Burrow

Molly Weasley placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Hold up for a second, dear."

Hermione paused, and saw Molly summon a nicely wrapped package.

"It's a wedding present, but you have to open it by yourself, before the wedding."

Hermione looked around and saw they were alone. "How about now?"

Molly smiled in a way Hermione had never seen before. Well, never seen on her anyway, she had seen it on her sons and daughter. Had she seen it on the face of George or Ginny she would have recognized it in a second. On Molly she had to think about it. Was that wicked glee? "Now would be fine."

Hermione ripped through the paper, lifted the top of the box, and found a delicate scarlet negligee, made all of lace. Her eyes widened to the popping point as she lifted it from the box.

"Ginny had that same look on her face when I gave her her's. Look, I know you kids think of me as being a dried up prude. I'm guessing I got that reputation when I didn't let you all engage in orgies under my roof. But, just because I didn't want you shagging each other silly when you were unmarried teens, doesn't mean I don't want you shagging your husband silly."

"It's beautiful Molly." Hermione held it to herself, and then gave the older witch a hug. "And I never thought you were a prude. You had seven kids! There had to be something going on with you and Arthur. Granted, I was annoyed at the 'no sleeping with your boyfriend rule' but it made sense."

Molly gave her a disbelieving look.

Hermione sighed. "It makes sense now, at the time when I was sure we were all going to get killed next week, I thought it was stupid." Molly nodded at her. She had managed to overhear one rather long and profane conversation between her daughter and Hermione on the subject of wanting to be sleeping with their respective significant others, and how the stupid rules (and eight warding spells) prevented them.

Hermione looked at the lace very closely. "Are those little books, cauldrons, wands and flasks, worked into the lace design?"

"Never let it be said that all I can knit is sweaters!" Molly grinned. "Now, off with you. Have fun with your friends."


	75. In Which There's One More Day

Chapter 79: In Which There's One Day Left

Severus awoke to find Hermione's chin on his chest, her eyes looking into his.

"Good morning," he said.

She smiled at him. "We're getting married tomorrow."

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. "Yes."

"These few hours between now and when we need to get to Alhana's Haven for decorating are our last ones alone until tomorrow night."

"Really?" he sounded like his brain was rapidly waking up.

"Really, various Weasleys have decided it's unfitting for a man and woman to get to sleep together on the night before their wedding, so I'll be at Ginny's, and who knows where Arthur plans to stash you. How'd Ginny put it? Oh yes, 'If you want to sleep with him, the least you can do is sneak around and get splinters on your bum like all the rest of us had to.'"

Snape winced. "That's more than I needed to know, especially at," he looked at the clock, "7:15 in the morning."

"I didn't ask for an explanation about the splinters, probably something to do with the broom shed at the Weasley's place."

"Ungh." Snape stretched, closed his eyes, and yawned. Hermione rolled off of him and snuggled by his side. He waited two breaths, making sure she was calm and restful, and then suddenly sprang up, rolled her over, and began to tickle her mercilessly.

"If this is the last of our alone time, I don't want to waste a second of it!"

* * *

_It looks like a nursery exploded here. _Snape knew saying that out loud probably wasn't the best plan he had ever had. But, when it came down to it, the large number of flowers Daphne Longbottom was removing from her lorry, and placing in strategic staging areas, did give that impression.

He also wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to be doing. As soon as they had arrived Hermione had hustled off to join Daphne.

"Severus, give a hand over here!" Harry called to him, gesturing to the pile of tables. Severus joined Harry and began to levitate the tables into the grassy space between the house and the chapel. Between the two of them that job was done in ten minutes.

"Now what?" Snape asked Harry.

"Ginny told me to put up tables, so I put them up. We're just foot soldiers here; we need to find one of the generals and get some more orders."

Snape looked around, and caught a quick glimpse of Ginny's hair through the hole in the house. "And from the looks of it, the generals are in the house."

They walked into the house and found what looked like total chaos. Five house elves were prepping the wedding food. Knives were slicing so quickly they blurred. Food was flying from one station to the next, each elf adding his or her bit to it. In the far corner Kreacher and Hermione were consulting about something. Ginny saw the men enter and intercepted them before they got too far into the house.

She turned them around and began leading them back into the sunshine. "The fewer people in there the less likely someone is to be hit with a flying marrow or cut with a stray knife." She looked up and saw the tables were in place. "Oh, that looks lovely. Here," she gestured with her wand and a large box landed on the middle table. "The linens are in there, put them on the tables."

Harry fired off a salute. Ginny gave him a quick kiss. "Thanks, love."

They returned to the tables, and Severus opened the box. It seemed much fuller then he would have expected. _How much space can six table cloths and thirty-six napkins take?_ As Harry unpacked, and he put the cloths on the tables, he found it was actually eighteen table cloths. Six white long cloths which reached the ground. Six smaller black ones were draped across the table and ended midway between the table top and the grass. Finally they placed the six smallest red cloths that just covered the table tops.

"That looks pretty good," Snape said to Harry.

"Yeah it does. When they get done with the crystal and flowers, it'll look even better."

"Do you think we'll be putting flowers in vases?"

"You're kidding right?" Harry looked like he thought that was one of the funniest things he had heard all day.

"No. I can put flowers in a vase. How hard can it be?" Snape looked perplexed.

Harry shook his head. "They aren't going to trust us with anything like that. We might get to put the flowers that are already in the vases on the tables, but they won't let us arrange them."

"Sounds kind of silly."

"I know, but that's the way it is. Daphne's done the flowers for three Weasley weddings, that's how she met Neville, and she's only just now letting Ginny and Hermione help. No one else is deemed skilled enough to touch her babies."

"Babies?"

"She's really into flowers."

"I won't ask to touch the flowers." Snape placed the last white napkin. "So what do we do now?"

"Dance floor?"

"I'm game. Do you think the generals will approve of us doing this without direct orders?"

"We'll just have to risk it. Unless you want to re-enter the house?"

"No, I'm perfectly happy to avoid that."

* * *

The first thing Hermione saw upon landing at Alhana's Haven was Daphne. She gave Severus a quick wave and then headed over to join the florist.

"How are things going?"

"Lovely. Just a few more boxes to unpack, and I'll be ready to start arranging the flowers."

Hermione bent over the nearest box and stroked the smooth stem and petal of a black calla lily. "These are so beautiful."

"Thanks, once we've got them arranged with the roses and the ivy, they'll be fantastic." Daphne grabbed another box and handed it to Hermione. "Take a look."

Hermione opened it carefully. Inside was her bouquet. She picked it up tentatively, almost afraid that a wrong touch would cause it to fall apart.

"You can touch it, trust me. It looks delicate, but it's not."

Hermione lifted it with both hands. A cascade of black calla lilies, white roses, and tendrils of green ivy fell to just above her knees. Tiny red and pink bleeding hearts provided little flashes of color.

Ginny joined them. "Beautiful isn't it?"

"Daphne, you do fabulous work."

"I wish I could take all the credit, but this one isn't all mine. Neville and Luna also helped to put it together for you. It was Luna's idea to toss in the bleeding hearts."

"Good idea. I thought it was missing something before, but I couldn't figure out what."

"Luckily she did. Not to rush you, but I've got to get this all unpacked and set up before my next delivery." Daphne waved at Ginny who was walking towards them.

"Oh, no problem."

"Come on Hermione, I'll show you the room we've got set up for you. The bouquet can go in there right?" Ginny said.

"Sure, everything's got a forty-eight hour stasis on it. Just make sure it's settled so nothing gets smushed," Daphne replied.

"Easy enough." Ginny led Hermione through the house, past the food prep station, and up the stairs.

"We figured that setting up the second floor for the guys, and the third floor for us would work out pretty well. So, when it's time to get ready, you'll be in here." Ginny opened the door to a comfortable room. "Harry was in charge of getting it ready for you. I think he did a pretty good job."

There were sofas, a full length mirror, a dressing table with a smaller mirror, and more lights than she had ever seen in a room. There was even a smaller table that looked like it had been designed to hold her bouquet, and next to the table, hanging from a dress form, was her dress.

"Did he get this just for the flowers?"

"I don't think so, but I don't know. You'll have to ask him."

"Where is he?"

"I think he stole Severus and they're setting up the tables and chairs."

Hermione laid her flowers on the table next to her dress, and stood back to look at it. Ginny put her arm around Hermione.

"Oh, you both look so lovely. Let me get a picture of this," Arthur said as he walked into the room.

"Dad?"

"Nothing's happening at the Ministry, so I begged off and came here. Thought I might be able to lend a hand. Plus, I wanted to get shots of it all being set up. You know Molly collects pictures of everything and makes up a wedding book for each of you. Now, stand there, just like you were."

The shot was one of Ginny and Hermione in profile, Hermione's gown and flowers in the background. Both of the women were smiling widely.

Arthur then set the camera floating, and had it take a shot of the three of them. "Wonderful. So what can I do?"

"Spike's in the chapel setting up the music. He might want some help," Ginny told him.

Arthur headed off to the chapel, excitement at meeting a real vampire and getting to play with muggle musical equipment putting a spring into his step.

"You think Spike needs help?" Hermione asked.

"Not really, unless he wants to put something in a sunny patch. But I figured Dad would like it."

"He certainly looked happy. I should go see how Kreacher is doing with the food."

* * *

"Bloody, buggering bastard!" That and other less polite words greeted Arthur's ears as he ducked into the chapel.

"Hello?" Arthur asked.

Spike looked up from several small interlocking squares of plastic, coils of wire, and a few plugs.

"Hello, mate. Mr Weasley?"

"Yes. Mr Grimes?"

"Not usually. Call me Spike."

"Arthur."

"How can I help?" Arthur asked the frustrated looking vampire.

"I can't get the bastard to play. It's worked perfectly fine for the last three months, and now, it's just dead."

"Too much magic?"

"If I'm lucky, it'll need a new battery if I'm not."

"I've got lots of batteries at home."

"Not this kind. You have to have one of the Mac people put a new one in if the old one dies."

"Huh? Not very convenient."

"Nope."

"Well, let's see what I can do about neutralizing the effects of the magic in the area."

"You can do that?"

"I learned how a long time ago. I like to play with muggle things, and they just don't work if you can't keep the magic under control. So, what's this thing supposed to do?"

"It plays music." Spike handed the iPod to Arthur.

"This little thing?

"Yeah. If we can get it working, it's got five hundred songs on it."

Arthur goggled. "Five hundred?"

"Give or take a few."

"So, how should it work?"

"Put these in your ears." Spike placed the ear buds in Arthur's hand. He stared at them. "Like this." Spike fitted one bud in Arthur's ear. Arthur smiled and placed the other. "And press that button." He pressed the button. Nothing happened.

"I'll be back in a moment. I might as well test it somewhere that isn't quite so magic."

Arthur was back five minutes later. "It's very loud."

"So it worked?"

"I think so, nothing like any music I've ever heard, but I could hear something when I got into London."

"Wonderful. I'll get it wired, you tone down the magic, and we can get this wedding rocking!"

* * *

"Severus, Hermione, come over here!" Severus caught Arthur's voice as he and Harry placed the last section of the dance floor into place. He looked at Harry and cocked an eyebrow. Harry shrugged back. Neither man had even known Arthur was here, let alone that he was in the Chapel.

"Go see what he wants. I'll get Hermione," Harry said before heading toward the house.

Severus found Arthur and Spike in the far corner of the chapel. As soon as he stepped inside a wave of music washed over him.

"Is that Maggie May?" Severus asked as the familiar music wrapped around him.

"In honour of my Rod Stewart loving friend." Spike smiled.

"It's brilliant, isn't it? This little thing, an iPod?" Spike nodded at Arthur. "Can play just about anything you can imagine. And so loud! You'd need a live band to get this much sound out of Celestina Warbeck."

"Take a listen." Severus started a new piece of music. Soft, eerie notes wove through the chapel. Snape cocked his head, he was sure he knew this music, but it wasn't registering immediately.

"I was thinking this would work for you and Arthur's entrance."

"It's Nine Inch Nails, isn't it?"

"Well caught. 'A Warm Place.' Buffy thinks this is perfect 'you' music, and Willow agreed."

"I always have been fond of that bit. A little sombre for a wedding though?" Severus had never even considered the idea of Nine Inch Nails as wedding music.

Hermione and Harry walked in at that point. "Hello, Spike." She walked over to him and received a kiss on the cheek.

"Here's the music I picked for your entrance, love." A soft ethereal melody was punctuated by a collection of brass instruments.

"That's beautiful. What is it?"

"The 'Angels In America' theme music. I went for more sombre music to begin with, and when you both leave…" The music that filled the chapel started low and slow, but with each passing movement it grew in strength, intensity and joyfulness. By the end a sense of accomplishment and triumph filled everyone who had heard it.

"It's a pretty obscure piece, but Giles, of all people, had it tucked in the back of his closet. It's a part of the soundtrack to a movie called Witness. If you can fathom it, the music goes along with a barn raising."

"What's a barn raising?" Arthur asked.

"When a bunch of people get together and build a barn in one day."

"Without magic?" Hermione asked.

"Without power tools," Spike said.

"Determined people," Severus said.

"So, do you like it?" Spike asked.

"I like it," Severus answered. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"So, where are your ladies?" Hermione asked him.

"Killing me... slowly. They're off watching Manchester U in the glorious sunlight, and I'm here setting up a sound system. Meanwhile I'm sure Xander is calling it soccer and talking about what a poncy game it is compared to football. And I'm not there to see the game or the yobs beat him to a pulp."

"Poor Spike, so many crosses to bear," Hermione teased.

"Hell, I'd gladly bear a cross if I could see Man U play again. But the game should be done soon, and then I'll take them to the British Museum, Giles says there's a copy of my book in the Victorian section, then back here for the dinner, and off for one last night of mayhem and debauchery in honour of Mr Snape here."

"Wait, you have a book?" Arthur asked.

"I'll have you know that once upon a time I was a truly horrendous poet with too much time and money on my hands, so I had a book published. What it's doing in the British Museum I'd love to know, which is why we're going hunting for it. Hell, Giles might be pulling one over on me." Spike and Arthur continued to talk about poetry while Snape put an arm around Hermione.

"So, what's left?" Snape asked Hermione.

"I think the flowers are ready to be placed, and once they're done then it's just a matter of going over everything and waiting for everyone for the rehearsal." She spent a moment just looking at the way the light hit the altar. Then an idea hit, and she pulled her eyes away.

"Oh, is your pre-wedding sitting area all set?"

Arthur nodded. "Not that we'll be using it all that much, most of the time we'll be out here greeting people and making sure they get seated."

"In that case, go grab some flowers and get directions from Daphne as to where they go."

* * *

An hour later Willow and Buffy teleported onto the dance floor. They decided to spend a moment walking around and peeking at the preparations before grabbing Spike and heading off. To the left of the dance floor was a long table that would be covered in food tomorrow.

They walked toward the dining tables.

"How pretty," Willow said looking at the lovely colours and textures, the black, red, and white flowers which were in a low, wide centrepiece so that they wouldn't obscure the view across the tables, and the afternoon sunlight sparkling off the crystal and silverware.

"So beautiful." Buffy let one of her hands lightly stroke a fork and the radiant white napkin under it.

Willow saw the look of longing in her friend's eyes. "You're really jonesing for a wedding, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I haven't felt this way since that stupid spell way back when. I want it so bad I can taste it."

"Talk to Spike, yet?"

"Soon, tonight, tomorrow night. I don't know. I feel a little silly wanting one so badly all of a sudden."

"Well, it's not like our lives have been full of happy wedding examples."

"That just might be in the running for the understatement-of-the-year-award."

"Maybe it's Anya. Perhaps if we keep her out of the equation, you'll have a lovely wedding."

"Her and Giles' wedding wasn't so bad."

"It wasn't a wedding. They snuck out of town, got hitched by the Justice of the Peace, and told us about it three days later when they came back. Nothing about that to get Buffy in a ringy kind of mood."

"No one to be in a ringy kind of mood about at that time either."

They walked toward the chapel. Music was echoing from it, and muted British voices underscored the melody.

The women walked in. Buffy let out a soft gasp, and Willow whistled. The chapel glowed from the afternoon sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows. Spike, Arthur, Harry, Snape, Hermione, and Ginny were all working on attaching flowers to the end of the pews. Another woman, who neither Willow nor Buffy knew, was placing more flowers on an altar at the front of the chapel. Spike looked up from his work before any of the humans could have heard them enter, and waved to the women.

"Who won?" Spike called across the chapel.

"Manchester, by a landslide!" Buffy called back to him.

He strode rapidly to her, picked her up, and swung her around. "Bloody Excellent! Hello, Red."

"Hello Spike. When did you become a florist?"

"A long, long time ago. Just showing them how to do it right."

The woman they didn't know looked up and then burst into undignified laughter. "Yeah, he's been a bloody lifesaver. Nothing like a bloke with sun allergies to help with getting an outdoor wedding together."

"Ta, luv," Spike said back to Daphne.

"Sun allergies?" Willow mouthed. Spike nodded and winked.

"I see you're getting along well," Buffy said with a smile.

"I'm enjoying being home. Nice to hear someone besides Giles who knows how to speak."

"You don't find our California American English entrancing? I'm wounded." Spike kissed Buffy's lips to still them.

"So, we're off to explore my less than savoury past. See you all tonight?"

"See you then." Severus called. The others waved. Willow apparated, teleported she called it, them out of there. The others returned to decorating.


	76. In Which We Rehearse

Chapter 80: In Which We Rehearse

The sun had sunk behind the trees and the stars were starting to shine before everyone was ready to start the rehearsal. Ginny had marshalled the players into their starting positions, and then walked to the front of the chapel. She gave Spike a nod, and Severus' music began.

Arthur and Severus walked in from outside the doors of the chapel, and took their places in front of Ginny. Spike cut the music, waited two beats, and began Hermione's theme. It took longer for Hermione and Harry to reach the chapel, because they had started from inside the house, but her music was long enough to cover the time. When they entered, Ginny gestured for everyone to rise, and Hermione's parents, Buffy, Willow, and Xander did their bit.

Harry walked Hermione to her place besides Severus, gave her a kiss, pantomimed lifting her veil, and then took a step back and pulled Hermione with him.

"Have to redo that." He pantomimed lifting her veil, gave her a kiss, and she handed him an imaginary bouquet of flowers.

Snape and Hermione looked at each other and grinned. Ginny smiled at them, and said, "So this is the bit where I do my speech. All the rest of you sit there politely and pretend you care. And then we get to the real show. Severus, all yours."

He took Hermione's hand. "Say my vows, wave my wand, tattoo appears."

"Hermione, now you," Ginny said.

"Say my vows, wave my wand, tattoo appears."

"Now you two tie your hands," Ginny said. Severus pulled out the ribbon, and the two of them fumbled with it for a few moments. Harry and Arthur tittered. Ginny rolled her eyes.

Hermione gave her a gentle glare. "We'll get it. That's why we've got a rehearsal. Besides, it's not like you ever tried to tie a knot one handed."

"I'm here, too." Severus said, trying to get the ribbon to stay where he put it.

"One and a half handed."

"Hey!" Snape finished his loop and pulled it tight.

"Very nice," Hermione said sarcastically. The knot was rather lopsided.

"Do you want to tie it?" Snape asked Hermione.

"I might as well try. Why don't you wrap it? I'll tie."

"Fine." He snagged the end of the knot and pulled it tighter. The two of them fought with the knot, each trying to undo it with only one hand, while the rest of the group looked on with happy amusement.

"You know, this is really what being married is all about," Arthur said while smiling at the struggling couple.

The second time went smoother. Snape wrapped the ribbon around their wrists, leaving the two ends close to each other, and Hermione had it in a knot in a matter of seconds.

"You're done? Wonderful! Now back to me," Ginny said. She pulled out a ribbon, slipped it around their wrists and tied it swiftly. "Welcome to the family. We love you all. Congrats, you're married! Kiss that woman!" Severus and Hermione kissed. Ginny waved her wand, and the knots released. She nodded to Spike and the recessional music began. "Turn around, take a bow, and off you go." She waited until Severus and Hermione had gotten to the doors of the chapel.

"Harry and Dad, off you go." The two men walked down to join Severus and Hermione. The music continued to swell and grow with joy. She followed behind them. "I think I just set the speed record for a wedding rehearsal."

As the five of them stood in a line, the prospective receiving line, the others began to file out, and the first notes of Billy Idol's White Wedding came blaring out of Spike's iPod. Severus laughed. Spike gave him a salute.

"Time to eat?" Harry asked.

Dinner was a similarly light affair. Since it was the staging point for both of the night before parties not only were the traditional out-of-town guests and members of the wedding party there, but so were all the guests at both parties.

After spending twenty-five minutes with Ginny and a seating chart, Hermione opted for a buffet and an open seating plan.

So far all was going well. People were buzzing about, happily munching upon the nibbles provided for their consumption, and the gentle roar of conversation filled the room they had rented for the meal.

Hermione stood by herself, somewhat hidden by a booth and just watched the party roll. She had a feeling that moments of quiet contemplation would be few and far between for the next twenty-four hours.

It was pleasant to watch the people she held dear having such a good time. Her parents had somehow correctly identified Xander as the only other thoroughly non-magical person in the group and were animatedly chatting with him about life among magical folk. Percy, Willow, and Spike were talking about something, and it must have been interesting because Hermione hadn't seen any of them get more food or a new drink for close to fifteen minutes. Girly giggling slid from the direction of Buffy, the Patils, Angelina and Deidre. Molly walked over, joined them, and added her laughter to the mix. Arthur, Harry, George, and Severus were hovering around the buffet table making sure that none of their favourite titbits had the chance to go cold.

"It feels odd doesn't it?" Hermione jumped slightly as Ginny's hand landed on her shoulder. "My whole wedding I felt like I was watching it from the outside. I had to keep reminding myself, 'I'm the Bride.'"

"No, not odd, at least not yet. But it's nice to just sit back and watch it. I mean, twenty years ago, who would have guessed any of these people would be in a room together?"

"Besides all of us red-headed-Weasley-types?"

"Well, yes, I guess it wouldn't be too hard to figure you'd all be in one room. But you know what I mean…"

Ginny smiled kindly. "I know what you mean. Who could have guessed that these people would become tied to each other by love and blood and joy and tears and history? Twenty years ago a lot of us were just kids, and those who weren't would have never guessed they'd be here with each other."

"So, shall we get back to mingling?" Hermione asked after another moment of watching her party.

"Sounds like a good idea. Besides, if I don't hit the buffet again soon, my husband will have eaten all the spring rolls."

"And we wouldn't want that."

"Damn right! I want at least one more of them."

"Jean?" Ginny pulled Hermione's mother aside as she and her husband were leaving the dinner.

"Yes, Ginny."

"I know you and Robert don't want to walk Hermione down the aisle, but would you like a different part in the wedding? Something to surprise Severus and Hermione?"

"Possibly, do I have to indicate I'm selling my daughter?"

"No, nothing like that. Tomorrow's ceremony will have a handfast as well as traditional wand binding. Supposedly I'll bind their hands to mark them as part of the family, but I decided to change it up for a surprise. Harry and I will bind their hands with a ribbon to mark them as part of our family. Dad and Mum will do the same. I was wondering if you and Robert would be willing to do so as well?"

"I'll have to see if Robert's on board, but yes, I think we can do that. Any special kind of ribbon?"

"Long enough to wrap around their hands a few times, and in a color that means something to you or that you like. Let me know before the ceremony starts."

"We'll make sure you know by the time we sit down."

* * *

Hermione was kissing Snape goodbye. She had one hand on his neck, and the other pressed against his chest. His arms were wrapped around the small of her back, and his forehead pressed against hers.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"See you."

They both stood there, not really wanting to let go and move onto the other festivities of the night.

"Oi! Get moving! It's not like you're off to the wars!" George called to Snape.

Hermione smiled. Snape gave her a quick kiss.

"Tomorrow."

"I'll be the one in white." She continued to smile as he joined the other men and walked off into the London night.

Ginny walked to her side and put an arm around her.

"So, what do you think they'll be doing?" Hermione asked.

"Things we'd rather not think about. Harry told me something about rented videos and lots of alcohol."

"Uggh. And what do you have planned for me?"

Buffy, Willow, Padma, Parvati, Angelina and Deidre surrounded Hermione and Ginny. All of them looked happy and mischievous.

"We are going to go out and enjoy your last night as a single woman," Ginny said.

"We're going dancing, and we're not stopping until at least five men have fallen in love with you." Buffy grinned.

"Seems kind of mean." A slow smile spread across Hermione's face. "But I think I can get behind that plan."

"Good, because our night starts…" Ginny watched the street. A black limo pulled up. "Now!"

* * *

The men had retired to George's home. (Arthur's place currently held Molly, Harry's kids and George's kids. Harry's home was where the ladies would be returning at some point.) Specifically, they were in George's Muggle Entertainment Room. Supposedly he owned it to do research and get ideas for jokes, but really it was there because he just liked muggle movies.

This is our entertainment?" Spike looked at the two DVDs. "Die Hard and Die Harder? I'm all for Bruce Willis, but this doesn't really say night of drunken debauchery."

"We'll be more than drunk enough," Harry said from the bar on the far wall.

"And as for debauched, we're all married." George told him while taking Die Hard out of Spike's hands.

"You could have gotten some decent pornos," Spike kidded him.

"Yes, because there's nothing like a group of grown men with stiffies and no one to use them on. One huge wankfest! That sounds like a great party, if we were still fourteen." George said to Spike, a smile in his voice. Spike grinned at him and helped fiddle with the sound equipment. He had a sense that he and George could make a wonderful team. Arthur had overheard the conversation while grabbing a drink for Severus and was shocked for a second, and then laughed rather than look prudish.

"Well, if you put it that way, let's get drunk and watch things get blown up. Hell, I don't suppose we could blow up some stuff ourselves later?" Spike looked like a kid asking for candy. The other men shook their heads. George was seriously starting to wish he had met Spike eight years ago when he could have really enjoyed his company.

"No?" Spike asked. More head shakes. "Minor vandalism then?" He still hadn't sold them on the idea. "What a shame. Well, then what's to drink?"

* * *

The first club was rocking. Literally. The music was so loud the walls were vibrating. Hermione thought this boded well as a place to go dancing. Then they got into the club and Hermione found of that yes, there would be dancing, but they wouldn't be the ones doing it.

She had never known she could blush so deeply. But, as Buffy hustled her to the seats right in front of the stage, and Willow shouted in her ear, "American tradition. Can't have a proper bachelorette party without some naked men." Hermione found she could indeed blush an even deeper red.

As said men began to gyrate around, and the ladies around her began to laugh, Hermione found herself laughing as well. She was sure it said something about how women and men view sex that most of the women around her thought dancing naked men was one of the funniest things in the history of the world. From her somewhat limited experience she was fairly sure that men did not break into fits of giggles when they went to strip clubs.

Apparently it wasn't just an American tradition. The MC got up and asked who was getting married tomorrow, and three women were pushed forward by their friends. (Hermione thanked all that was good and holy that her buddies decided that it was enough to just watch.) The Happy Bride Dance was something she didn't think she'd ever forget, and she wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing.

* * *

"You know you two have doomed me." Spike looked from Harry to Severus; he gulped a shot of whiskey as John McClane saved the day in the dramatic finale to Die Harder.

"How could we have possibly done that?" Harry asked.

"Your wives, between Ginny's wedding pictures and getting Hermione ready for tomorrow, my woman wants to get married now. She's got white dresses dancing in her head, and it's all your fault."

"Worse things could happen," Severus said.

"I like being married," Harry added.

"Yes, but now I've got to go get a ring, and make up a fake identity so we can get a wedding license, and who knows how I'll pass a blood test. Willow'll have to magic that up for me. And then there'll be flowers, and food, and music, and dresses, and suits, and mountains of girly stuff. I tell you, I'm doomed."

"Join the club," Arthur put an arm around his shoulder warmly.

"It's good to be doomed. Hell, I'm doomed twice over," George added.

"You know, there's a reason they call them bachelor dinners. There's supposed to be more than one single guy in the group."

"Spike, you're no more single than any of the rest of us," Harry told him.

"Hey, I'm still single." Xander spoke up from the chair everyone thought he was asleep in.

"Sorry Xander, you were so quiet we forgot you were there," Harry shot at the man slouched in the chair.

"Just because I'm almost unconscious doesn't mean I'm not here! My Gods, what is in this stuff?" He lifted his glass to indicate another of the concoctions wouldn't be unwelcome. Harry looked at him, and decided that one more would render Xander unconscious.

"How about I make a new drink for you?"

"Sure."

"One coffee coming right up."

Xander glared at Harry, tried to get up, and stumbled over his own feet. "What's the point of having a bunch of wizards around if I can't get blind drunk, and then not have to feel it the next morning?"

"Trust me lad, you're pissed, and you won't feel it in the morning. But Harry doesn't have any desire to cross Willow, who instructed that you had to be back in one piece and able to walk," Arthur told Xander while putting him back in his chair.

* * *

The second club was more along the lines of what Hermione had been thinking of. Proper dancing. All the men were dressed. Dressed nicely, a little tighter than was strictly necessary, but dressed. Which suited Hermione just fine, she had seen more than enough jiggling genitalia for one night.

The ladies staked out a table and got down to it. Hermione shimmied and shook with the best of them. Each of the women was hit on at least three times, including one rather persistent fellow who needed more than a gentle rebuff to leave Ginny alone. But all in all, a good time, and some slight hearing damage, was had by all.

At 3:00 Hermione decided she had had enough. "Time to go home?" she asked Ginny.

"Well, my home, but yes, it's time."

The women parted with happy, tired smiles and best wishes for the coming evening.

Hermione and Ginny returned to Grimmauld Place, and found Harry sitting at the table waiting for them with hot tea.

"Been home long?" Ginny asked her husband.

"Nope, five minutes? Ten tops. Long enough to make tea. Have a good time?"

"Yes," Hermione answered. Ginny just grinned at him.

Hermione looked at the tea but decided against it. She gave a great yawn. "I'm knackered. You've done a good job keeping me up late enough and working me out hard enough that I'll sleep like a log. My usual room?" Hermione had had a 'room' at Grimmauld since shortly after the war. Technically it was an all purpose guest room, but she was the only person who used it.

Harry nodded at her and sipped his drink. Ginny waved. "Sleep well. We don't want to see you down here before noon."

"I think I can handle that."

* * *

Severus was bored. The movies had been nice. The drinks were good. The first few rounds of darts had been amusing. Spike and George playing off each other had started out fun and was rapidly moving toward manic as more alcohol was consumed. He wanted to go home. He wanted to curl up in bed with Hermione, have a nice shag, and go to sleep. He looked at the clock, 2:23. It was late enough.

Arthur caught the look on Severus' face, and said, "Let's go. I think we've had enough fun for one night. Can I trust one of you to get these two back to their hotel?" He asked Harry and George about Spike and Xander.

Harry nodded to Arthur. He thought he might need a stunning spell to get Spike and George calmed down enough to get Spike back to his hotel without any vandalism en route. But, to paraphrase Xander: what good was being a wizard if you couldn't calm down a hyper vampire and a drunken brother-in-law with a flick, swish, and a few words?

"See you tomorrow, then?" Harry said to them.

"See you then," Arthur replied.

He and Severus apparated to Severus' home. "Do you want me to stay with you?" Arthur offered.

Severus thought about it. "Usually I'd rather be alone, but tonight some quiet company might be just the thing. It's fine with Molly?"

"She doesn't expect me home tonight."

"I'll make some tea."

"Good, I could use something without any alcohol."


	77. In Which You are Cordially Invited

Chapter 81: In Which You Are Cordially Invited...

Hermione stretched languidly. The light sliding in from her window told her she had slept though the morning. A glance at the clock confirmed that, 11:55. Sunset was a little over six hours away.

_Six hours. Well, four really. I need to get to the chapel early. Make sure everything is all set and ready. Four hours…nothing to do. Lunch, there's something._

She tossed on her robe and puttered down to the kitchen. She knew Kreacher would be at Alhana's Haven already, so she was on her own for lunch. Hermione listened carefully as she moved through the house. It sounded like Harry and Ginny were still asleep. _First lay in since… God could it really have been five years? _She thought about it. _More probably. Ron's a bit over five now, and Ginny didn't really sleep well toward the end of that pregnancy. _Hermione sighed.

She was at home in Harry and Ginny's kitchen. Over the course of the seven years they had lived in Grimmauld Place she had spent many a night, and even more evenings and mornings.

_What to eat?_ She peered into the fridge. The bacon caught her eye, so did the eggs, and if she wasn't mistaken there was a carafe of orange juice. _Perfect._

The smell of frying bacon got Harry and Ginny down the stairs. Hermione had made enough for the three of them and was plating up as her friends sat down.

"A little b and e?" Hermione asked while placing the plates in front of her friends.

"Sounds great. Pass the toast," Harry said.

Ginny looked about and got some coffee started.

The three of them sat and ate quietly for a bit.

"So, now what?" Hermione asked.

Ginny grinned. "Wash up, check the clock about nine hundred times, twiddle your thumbs, act jittery, check the clock some more, get a shower, get dressed, check the clock again, pace, try to read, put the book away, check the clock again, see that you've got two hours to go until you've got to be at Alhana's, groan, pace some more…"

"Bugger that! Let's go to the cinema," Hermione said with a gleam in her eye.

"A much better plan. Mum's got the kids all day, until the babysitters come and relieve her for the wedding, so we're free for anything. Heck, we could see two movies…" Harry said.

"Don't get too wild on me," Hermione replied. Besides they really didn't have time for two movies.

"Let's meet back here in twenty minutes: dressed and showered and ready to go." Ginny the General had spoken: a plan was ready, and the soldiers went off to implement it.

* * *

A rhythmic banging sound kept pulling at Snape's sleep. It happened twice, and then he heard muffled voices, the sound of someone moving around his house, and then it went quiet again. Part of him wanted to jump up and see what had happened. Part of him, the winning part, decided he was too damn tired to do anything about it. So he went back to sleep.

Later, hours later to judge by the light, he awoke and went downstairs. Sitting on his kitchen table was the wedding cake. A feeling of relief washed over him. Arthur saved his life on that one. Hermione wouldn't have been thrilled to find that he had slept through the cake delivery.

The sight of the cake reminded him that he was rather hungry. It also made him very, very happy that he and Arthur could shrink it, because the idea of trying to move it full sized made him want to break out into a cold sweat.

The cake was white. Smooth white icing. Perfect, fingerprint free, white icing. Each of the three tiers had a red ribbon wrapped around the base. Each tier was supported on thin crystal pillars. The top of the cake was covered in white roses, as was the top of the second and third tier. The tray the cake was resting on was strewn with black calla lilies. It looked very, very intricate and fragile.

Snape stopped looking at the cake and went to start some coffee and breakfast. Several moments later Arthur joined him.

"Thank you for getting the cake," Severus told Arthur.

"No problem. I'd actually woken up a moment or two before they came; it just took me a little while to work out how to open your locks."

"Oh. Sorry about that. Have you been awake all this time?"

"No, went back to sleep after they left. I need to be sharp for tonight."

"Yes. And we really need to be sharp to figure out how to get this," he gestured to the cake, "to the wedding in one piece."

"No problems. A little shrinkage, a levitate spell, and my Anglia, and it'll be a breeze."

"You sound like you've done this before."

"Well, not precisely this, but I've had some similar jobs over the course of eight weddings."

* * *

"So, that was interesting," Hermione said to Harry and Ginny, more than a bit of sarcasm edging her voice, as they walked out of 'Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow.'

"Yep." Ginny nodded.

"Hey, I liked it," Harry said adamantly.

"I'm glad one of us did." Ginny poked him while talking.

"I didn't hate it. It was just, odd," Hermione said. "On the upside it ate up an hour and a half, almost two if you count getting here, getting tickets, getting popcorn, and watching the previews. It's almost time to get to Alhana's Haven."

"It did do that very well. I only noticed you checking your watch four or five times," Harry said as they turned into an alley to apparate back to Grimmauld Place.

* * *

As they lowered the cake to its spot of honour in the middle of the long buffet table, Snape started to breathe again. He had been having images of it smashed to pieces running through his head since Arthur started his car with a jolt.

Under other circumstances a ride in a flying Ford Anglia would have been a blast for Snape. This time he was looking over his shoulder every two seconds to see if the cake was in the same condition he had received it in. Now that it was safe, the weight lifted off his shoulders and all that was left was to get dressed and stand around the chapel waiting for people to arrive.

He and Arthur went to the rooms that had been set aside for them. One of the house elves joined them within seconds, offering beverages and snacks. A pot of tea, a tray of fruit, and another tray of sandwiches appeared on one of the tables, and both men had a bit of a nibble.

"Now what?" Snape looked about the room, and at the clock that showed him they had two hours until the wedding began.

"We get dressed; then we stand around the chapel waiting for people to show up," Arthur told him.

"Sounds fascinating."

"This part always is. It'll be boring going through it, but you won't really remember it after."

"Always a silver lining." Both men sat and ate for a few more minutes. When he finished his sandwich, Snape grabbed his suit and went to change. Above him he heard footsteps and muted voices. _Hermione's here._ Part of him wanted to go bounding up the stairs. Part of him realized that bounding half dressed up the stairs to enthusiastically greet a woman he had just seen the day before was a bit too much the lovesick fool. He grumbled about having too much pride while putting on his trousers.

Ginny popped into the room a few moments after Severus realized the other half of the wedding was upstairs.

"Oh, you two look so handsome." She kissed her Dad and hugged Severus.

"Whereas you look a bit underdressed," Severus said.

"I told you I wanted to do something casual." Ginny grinned and gestured at her outfit, the same muggle clothing she had worn to the movie. "I wanted to see how far along you were, and inspect everything before I got changed. Harry and Hermione are upstairs. They're getting dressed, and then they'll realize exactly how dull it is to sit and wait in the 'Bridal Chamber.' Hopefully some of the others will be here soon to keep them company.

"So the plan is: You two get dressed and then head to the chapel. You greet guests, make sure everyone is seated, and make a lot of small talk. A little bit before sunset we'll start with you two walking down the aisle and then once the light hits the windows properly, we'll get Hermione and Harry started."

"Yes, Ma'am." Arthur told his daughter while giving her a hug. "We'll be in the right place at the right time. No worries."

"Wonderful. I'll be floating around making sure everything is set up. I'll see you again in a bit."

* * *

It had taken Harry seven minutes to change out of his street clothing and into his formal dress robes. It had taken seven minutes for Hermione to arrange all of her makeup and hair stuff on the table in front of the lighted mirror.

They didn't talk much while she worked on her hair. Harry had lived with a woman long enough to know that most women didn't like to be distracted while they did this. So he sat quietly on one of the sofas and pondered the idea that his best friend was marrying a man who had been one of his personal demons for years. That took all of one minute. Pondering that said demon had actually turned out to be a pretty good man; a man whose company he actually enjoyed, took longer.

"What do you think?" Hermione pulled him out of his reverie.

He eyeballed her hair and face. She hadn't done the make-up yet, but it looked like her hair was finished. She had straightened it out and pulled some of it back into a knot studded with little, green, sparkly jewels. The rest was allowed to cascade down her back.

"It looks nice."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Nice?"

He grinned at her, stood, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "It looks nice. Very nice. If I say too much more, what words will I have when I see you all put together?"

"Good point. Now for make-up."

Harry returned to the sofa, and Hermione to her mirror. He wished Ron could be here. He would have liked to share Hermione's wedding with their other best friend. He knew that it wouldn't have worked out this way if Ron had been here, and he was used to not having Ron around for important moments, but he still felt the wish for his friend when something especially joyful was about to happen.

Hermione watched Harry in her mirror; she saw the melancholy on his face. She knew that look well, and had worn it more than once herself. "Thinking about Ron?" Hermione asked while she started to apply her foundation.

"That obvious?"

"To me or Ginny. I'm not sure about the others."

"Is it horrible to wish he was here?"

"I don't think so. I miss him most at the happy times."

"Me too."

They were both quiet. Hermione brushed powder onto her face.

"I had a dream about him awhile ago. He was telling me that he was okay with Snape."

Harry looked incredulous.

"Yeah, that was my response, too." Hermione turned to face him. "I know he wouldn't have been okay with this."

"He would have wanted you to be happy and get married and have lots of kids."

"Well, yeah, he'd be fine with that. It's the Snape thing that would have soured the deal."

"I think he would have come around eventually."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. He loved you. Loved you more than anything in the world. Especially that last month. He grew up a lot that last month, and he got a lot of things straight in his head that month. The man he became would have come around. I'm not saying it would have been fast or easy, but he would have come around. Hell, I did."

Her smile was bright. "And that you did."

* * *

Severus and Arthur sat in the back pew of the chapel. Arthur was carefully studying the flowers on the end of the pew. Severus was staring off into space. Ginny had popped in a few minutes earlier with news that people should start coming soon. But for the time being it was just the two of them and an empty chapel. Severus looked up as the sharp popping sound of apparition hit his ears.

Two more quick pops told the men that it wasn't just Ginny stopping by again. Voices began to filter towards the chapel. Severus checked his watch. Forty minutes to go, and finally someone was here.

Someone turned out to be Neville, Daphne and Luna. Severus was never so happy to see anyone named Longbottom. The greetings were correct, even verging on personable. Neville almost smiled at Severus. Luna placed a brightly wrapped box on a table by the door of the chapel. Daphne led her husband and wife around the chapel to show off her handiwork from the day before.

A moment later another pop signalled the next set of guests. Molly came in with Jean and Robert. She gave her husband a hug and kiss and followed that with a hug for Severus.

Then she stepped back and looked them over. "I like the suits. Very, very sharp."

"How did last night go?" Arthur asked her.

"You mean with the kids?"

"Yes."

"The day five kids are trouble for me is the day you need to shovel dirt on me because I've died. Compared to Fred and George, these five are a breeze."

"That's good."

Jean and Robert held back. Severus walked to them. "Would you like the tour?"

"We saw it yesterday," Jean said, and then looked like she regretted it.

"Oh. Of course."

"I'm sorry that was short. I didn't sleep well last night. The time difference is really starting to get to us," Jean explained while looking at the chapel. "This really is a lovely spot of a wedding. I can see why you'd want to show it off."

Snape looked for something to say. "Would you like to see Hermione?"

"Yes, I think that would be good," Robert replied.

"She's in the house. I'm not allowed to get too close, but I think Arthur can lead the way for you."

Arthur offered Jean his arm. "I'd be delighted."

Hermione's natural parents came into her room accompanied by her adopted parents. Harry hugged his in-laws while Hermione hugged her parents. Then she hugged the Weasleys, and Harry shook the Granger's hands.

Everyone cooed about how lovely Hermione looked, and Arthur made sure to get a photo of the six of them together. Then one shot of Hermione and her parents, and another of just her and Harry.

For several moments the six of them chatted about how handsome Snape was looking, that the chapel was gorgeous, and the cake was beautiful. Then Jean asked if they could get a minute alone with Hermione.

Harry and the Weasleys left the room. Jean sat next to Hermione on the sofa and put an arm around her. Robert pulled up a chair and sat across from her.

"We love you so much," her mother started.

"And you know that we're so proud of you," Robert continued.

"But we want you to know you don't have to go through with this." Hermione was about to speak, but her mother shushed her.

"If you've got any second thoughts, any uncertainties, it's okay not to do this," hHer father looked earnestly at her as he spoke.

"There's nothing worse than a bad marriage," her mother chimed in.

"And we don't want that for you." Then both of her parents stopped and waited for her to respond.

Hermione took a deep breath, and tried to think of it from their point of view. "I know you want what's best for me, and I'm certain that this is it."

Both her parents looked at her. Her mother kissed her on the forehead. Her father stood up. The ladies did as well.

"We'll head back to the chapel." Her father wrapped her in a bear hug. "I'm happy for you, dear." Hermione felt tears threaten to spill down her cheeks.

"Don't say that, Dad, you'll make me cry."

"It's good to cry at weddings, Honey," her mother said. "Sometimes the joy just needs to spill out." Her parents left her and sought out Ginny.

"We've got the ribbon, and we're in on they handfasting," Jean told Ginny.

Ginny smiled at her. "Lovely. You'll come up after Mum and Dad. It'll be a great surprise for Hermione."

* * *

The chapel was full. Everyone had arrived and been seated. All they were waiting for now was the sun. It was slowly creeping into the correct position, inching its way down toward the tree line. Finally Ginny nodded to Spike, who switched from random music to 'A Warm Place.'

Arthur looked over Severus, reached out, and adjusted his tie. "All set?"

"All set. Let's go wait for Hermione."

The two of them walked to the front of the church, smiling, nodding, and shaking hands with the some of the guests.

"Nervous?" Arthur asked quietly as they stood at the front of the chapel.

"Not really," Snape replied, looking at the doors, waiting for the music to change and Hermione to enter. "You?"

"I've got the easy job. All I have to do is stand here and look pretty."

Snape smiled, never taking his eyes from the door. "Got your speech ready for after dinner?"

"That I'm a little nervous about."

Severus smiled. Arthur smiled back. Both waited for their first sight of Hermione and Harry. 'A Warm Place' ended, and Spike began the 'Angels in America Theme.'

* * *

"Are you ready?" Harry asked her.

"Just about." Hermione gave herself one last look in the mirror, flicked an all but invisible piece of fluff off of her veil.

He turned her to face him, and gave her a very careful, non smudging kiss on her forehead. "And once more we walk together to face our fate."

"Once more. I'm thinking this might be a bit easier than entering Gringotts."

"Or the Battle of Hogwarts. Or the Forbidden Forrest."

Ginny popped her head into the room. "Give it about five more minutes, the sun's just about in the right place. The light should be perfect soon. When you hear your music, in you come."

"Okay," They said in unison. Hermione fiddled with her engagement ring. Harry paced the length of the room.

"You can still back out of this."

"God, my parents said that, too. I'm not backing out of anything."

"Okay," Harry said. They sat quietly for about thirty seconds, which felt like three hours.

"Did you ever think it would be us?" Harry looked like he couldn't quite believe he said that out loud.

"A moment here, a moment there, mostly no, though."

"Yeah, that's pretty much where I was. That moment third year, after you punched Malfoy, you were the most beautiful girl in the world that day."

"By that logic, Mad-Eye Crouch was the greatest thing on Earth after the ferret transformation."

"And he was. Closest I ever came to being gay." They both broke out into peals of laughter. As they calmed down, Hermione heard the first notes of her processional music begin.

"Time to go." She took a deep breath. He took her hand.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Harry."

"Let's go get you married."

* * *

Hermione and Harry walked slowly down the aisle toward Severus and Arthur. Ginny was standing facing the room, a huge, happy grin on her face. Severus realized why there are clichés. Because when the woman you love walks toward you dressed in white and radiant there was a certain way you feel, and a finite number of ways of describing that feeling. So he was willing to be a cliché for a moment, it just felt too good to try and be otherwise.

Hermione walked with Harry, trying very hard not to cry. The feeling in her chest was almost too big to keep inside. It wanted to leak out in tears or burst forth in peals of laughter. She started to whisper to Harry, nonsense words, just something to keep her tears in.

Harry squeezed her arm. "You're doing fine," he whispered. When they reached the altar, Harry lifted Hermione's veil, kissed her cheek, and took her flowers from her.

She turned to face Snape, and he mouthed the word, "Hi." She grinned at him, mouthed "Hello," and felt her composure return.

Ginny began. "We've come here to act as witnesses for the binding of Hermione Jean Granger and Severus Chauncey Snape."

Hermione's eyes went wide, and Snape mouthed to her, "Groom's gift to the bride."

She smiled back at him, and Ginny, who had paused to watch the exchange, started speaking again.

"They've asked me to say something about love and marriage, and to more or less keep this moving along. I spent quite some time trying to think of what to say. Here goes:

"We're here for a wedding, which is a fairly common thing. But like many common things, it's a symbol for something extraordinary, for something that makes our lives richer, deeper, harder, and easier, than they would otherwise be.

"Anyone can love. Love's the easy part. Love's the fun part. And really, that's not what a wedding is about. It's about taking that love, and making a pledge to keep it going. It's about providing a space where love can grow, a place where love can make us better than we were before, and better than we are alone.

"A wedding is about keeping going between the easy bits. It's the difference between the amateur and the professional. We are here to watch these two people sign up for the long race, and we are here to pledge ourselves towards helping them make it.

"A wedding is a birth. It marks the beginning of a new life, and a new family. By the time tonight is done Severus will have become part of our family; he will be our newest brother, son, or uncle. By the time this night is done Hermione and Severus will have become a family of their own. They will have taken the first step of becoming something bigger, greater, than either of them was alone.

"Having said that, let's all stand and watch them make their vows. As they speak, let us bless their union in our hearts, and by our wands.

"Okay, Severus. The show is yours."

Hermione and Severus both smiled awkwardly. Severus looked at Hermione's hand in his. His voice started quietly, almost tentative, but grew in strength and volume as each vow passed. "I Severus, bind myself, to you, Hermione." The magic began to glow on her left wrist, leaving the first line of their wedding tattoo visible.

"I bind my life to yours." With each vow another line of the knot tattoo became visible, and the glow brighter.

"I bind my joy to yours.

"I bind my sorrow to yours.

"I will honour you.

"I will cherish you.

"I will comfort you.

"I will love you." Hermione felt happy tears spill down her cheeks. She smiled radiantly at him. He smiled back at her.

"I will be your husband." The tattoo burst into flame, and then faded to the colours it would be for the rest of her life.

Then she began her part of the ceremony.

Hermione spoke, her voice unsteady. "I Hermione, bind myself, to you Severus." The first line of his wrist tattoo glowed into life.

"I bind my life to yours." She sniffled, took a deep breath, and continued with a stronger voice.

"I bind my joy to yours.

"I bind my sorrow to yours.

"I will honour you.

"I will cherish you.

"I will comfort you.

"I will love you." And now it was Snape's turn to look radiant.

"I will be your wife." Once more the glow burst into flames, finishing Severus' wrist tattoo with its eighth strand.

They held each other's hands, and Severus wrapped a white ribbon around both of their wrists. She took the ends of the ribbon from him, and finished the knot.

Hermione spoke: "We are now Snapes."

Severus gave her a questioning look, his right eyebrow high. She mouthed back, "Bride's gift to the groom."

Ginny stepped forward and held both of their hands. Harry joined her and wrapped a green and gold ribbon around them. "You are now Potters," Ginny said, and then gave both of them a kiss. Harry hugged Hermione and slapped Snape on the shoulder, and then he stepped aside for his father-in-law.

Arthur held his hand out to Molly, who joined them from her seat in the front row. He held his arm around her, and gave her a quick kiss. She took a white and red ribbon out of her sleeve and handed it to Arthur. Molly held their hands while Arthur tied the ribbon.

"You are now Weasleys." As Arthur said the words, George provided a little wand work. Both of them startled when their hair went bright Weasley red for a moment, and then faded back to their normal colours. The rest of the audience laughed. Arthur gave Hermione a kiss while Molly hugged Severus. Then they switched, and Molly returned to her seat while glaring at George, who looked the picture of innocence.

Hermione's eyes widened when her parents walked up, a violet ribbon in hand. They tied their ribbon around Snape and Hermione's hands and said, in something approaching unison, "You are now Grangers."

Her parent's kissed her. Her mother hugged Severus, and her father shook his free hand, and then they too retreated to their seats.

Ginny cleared her throat. "And, you are now married." The assembled guests cheered. Then Snape and Hermione were kissing, and there was clapping, and at some point, they turned, walked down the aisle, and into their new life.


	78. Afterword

Afterword:

Gosh. It's done. Three hundred and eighty–six pages, over the course of eight months. I'd like to thank all of you who stuck with this, and made it all the way to the end. For those of you kind enough to review, getting your notes at the end of each chapter has kept me coming back to the computer during some of the harder bits to write.

"What, no wedding party?" Some of you may be asking. Yes, no wedding party. We've all been to one. We know what happens. And really, it'd be anti-climatic. Imagine it however you like. Saying they loved each other was the climax of this tale, what followed was the wrap up.

Is this the end of Snape and Hermione? Do they ride off into the sunset? No it's not the end. I intend to write more of them, and the rest of this cast. At some point I intend to do a sequel and a prequel. At some point I'd like to write a great tale that starts with Severus and the Werewolf Caper and ends with Snape's death. (At 103, surrounded by family, in his bed.)

But I'm not quite up to that at this point. And what I don't have is an actual plot for the sequel. So, for those of you who want to see what comes next, make sure I'm on your author alert list. I have a feeling that for a while I'll be putting out bits and pieces, scenes that won't let go, but aren't quite part of a story yet. Call them spoilers if you will. One of these days I'll get that plot, and begin to put everything together.

In the meantime, if any of you are interested in seeing what I like to read for inspiration do a web search for Red Hen Harry Potter. Ms. Hen has some excellent essays that have given me much to play with. If you search Harry Potter Essays you'll find a lovely Live Journal Community, anything by Swythyv or Professor Mum is also worth the read. As for fiction, search Antosha, it'll lead you to the live journal of one of my favorite writers of Harry/Ginny romance. Ashwinder is where I go when I want Snape/Hermione.

Not too much else to say. Thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. I hope to hear from you in the future.


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